***CONTAINS GAME SPOILERS***

A/N - So, like many other gamers, I have found myself sucked into Skyrim. It is a fantastic game, but I did not expect much out of the npc's (based on Bethesda's previous games). However, I must admit that I was pleasantly surprised by several characters, and my favorite by far, Farkas. His presence inspired this short story, so I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer - I do not own Skyrim or its characters. Bethesda does.

I sat in a quiet corner of the common area, sipping my mead while absorbing the atmosphere provided by the constant chatter of my shield-siblings. I had never seen the dining table so full of people and everything around me seemed ethereal, almost unreal. A little voice somewhere in my mind's fog reminded me that I was in shock. Kodlak's death was unbelievable; my brain would simply not accept it as fact, even though I had watched his funeral pyre burn on the Skyforge. The man was the stuff of legends—his character and name were known throughout the nine Holds. Yet, he had seen potential in me when no one else ever had. He didn't doubt me or my intentions, as many Nords had before him. He had asked me once why I stayed in Skyrim, and I had bluntly told him that while I was not a native, it was my home, and I would bleed before leaving it. He had simply nodded in agreement, and there were no more questions. His support had fueled me to survive and thrive within the ranks of the Companions.

When the old man had asked me to retrieve the head of a Glenmoril witch to reverse his lycanthropy and help him reach Sovngarde, I found it the very least I could do to repay him. But, it was a cruel twist of fate that the Silver Hand's attack would coincide with the mission he had entrusted to me. I had failed the one man who had believed in me from the beginning. It was not until Eorlund and Vilkas mentioned the Tomb of Ysgramor that I felt like I had a chance to settle things — maybe not make them right but at least make them acceptable. Even though we had managed to release his spirit, his death continued to haunt me. The fact that he had made me Harbinger disturbed me even more. The other three members of the Circle had been Companions much longer than I had and surely that made them better candidates. Yet, all of them had deferred and accepted me, based solely on Kodlak's wishes.

"No jokes about my fear of spiders?"

I heard his gruff and familiar baritone through my mental haze, and turned my eyes towards the sound. They fell first on his broad chest, and quickly moved up to see an impish smirk on his face.

I returned his smile and shook my head in the negative, "It would be like shooting a Riverbetty in a barrel."

He took a seat across from me, and I could not help but notice his strong, calloused hands as they lowered him into the chair. Farkas was by far my favorite shield-sibling for many reasons, most importantly his compassion and battle prowess. Those were two characteristics you did not often see paired so equally in a man—they were either a fearsome warrior that knew no mercy, or some gentlemen that couldn't swing his way out of a potato sack.

"I am not sure that I have ever understood that phrase," he replied with an eyebrow slightly raised.

Honesty—another quality that I admired deeply in him. He was truthful even when it was to his detriment, and he had often claimed that he was "not smart" and misunderstood many things.

"It means it would be easy for me to do…in this instance, to make fun of your fear of spiders."

He waved his hand dismissively, "I get that…but why can't people just say 'It would be too easy'—five little words and they're done. Instead it's all this hidden meaning garbage…just say what you mean."

I laughed loudly, realizing that I had underestimated him. For all his claims to the contrary, he seemed to reason things pretty clearly.

"You're right, Farkas. So allow me to correct…It would be too easy."

He half-smiled, as he fidgeted with a buckle on his armor, behavior that was very un-Farkas-like, "Well, at least you're smiling now." His voice got lower, "I have a favor to ask, and I guess that now is as good a time as any."

My grin fell slightly, a bit of apprehension creeping into the recesses of my mind at his show of nerves. I had never seen him like this, and while I had not known him long, I knew it was a rarity.

He met my gaze, "Will you help me remove the curse?"

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. His awkwardness must have been born out of needing to ask for my assistance, something that "proud Nord men" did not do. As much as I appreciated most Nord culture, some of it rather infuriated me. I sighed slightly and huffed, "Of course, Farkas."

He immediately picked up on my disapproval. He may not have been book-smart, but he could read people easily. "Out with it, Bryn."

"I don't understand why you are nervous in asking for my help, and don't try to deny it. I mean, I know you Nord men like to think you're invincible, and it's probably below you to ask an Imperial, let alone a woman, for aid…"

His loud bark of laughter interrupted my words, and I realized that he was now standing in front of me. "It has nothing to do with that," he leaned down until his face was inches from mine, "I asked you to risk your life, and that is not something I take lightly."

His dominant position above me set off instinctual alarm bells, calling to the wolf in me, and I shoved him hard. He barely moved, but it gave me enough room to stand, and I surprised him by chest-bumping him further back. He smirked as I pulled my shoulders back and lifted my chin to meet his gaze. I believed him when he said that it was not my gender that was bothering him, but there was something he was holding back. I allowed my annoyance to lace my words, "Death is an option on every mission. You and I have both risked our lives on more than one occasion for the Companions. I fail to see how helping you would be any different."

His eyes lowered, and he whispered through gritted teeth, "Because, you maddening woman, this time it would not be for the Companions, it would be for me." Before I could respond, he brushed past me, heading down the stairs that lead to the living quarters and out of sight.

I sighed and stretched as I stared at my uneaten morning meal. I had not slept soundly; my thoughts on Kodlak and the disagreement with my shield-brother had kept me from sleeping most of the night. I still was not quite sure how our discussion had turned south so quickly. One moment, we were laughing, and the next we were practically at each other's throats. I decided to chalk it up to our inner wolves, combined with battle wariness from our exploit into Ysgramor's Tomb. Whatever the reason, I knew that I owed him an apology. I was Harbinger now, whether or not I felt worthy, and my accusatory behavior had been less than ideal.

Since breakfast was not too appealing at the moment, I decided to try and find Farkas. I was never very good at apologizing, and the sooner I did so, the sooner I would free my mind from the guilt. I wandered out into the courtyard, knowing that he often practiced his swordwork in the morning.

I nearly swallowed my tongue in surprise and awe when I laid my eyes upon him. There had been a few occasions previously where I had witnessed Farkas exercising in the courtyard, and I had seen him in battle more times than I could count. But, I had never known him to spar shirtless. I stood there, dead in my tracks, trying to process what my senses were relaying to my feeble brain. The sun danced its rays across his bare back, and it highlighted each taut, rippling muscle as he swung his two-handed sword. His feet were planted firmly in an offensive stance, as they anchored him in place. He was relentless, cleaving into the sparring dummy as he grunted and growled in his exertions. I tried to tell myself that I was so very interested in watching because of the sheer beauty of his skills. I did not get long to stand there and admire him, however, before he noticed my presence and stilled. He looked over his shoulder at me, waiting.

"I owe you an apology, Farkas."

He turned his entire frame toward me, and I found it extremely difficult to talk and keep my eyes from wandering down his muscular form. He took a few steps toward me, leaning his weapon against a nearby wall while dipping his hands in a bucket to rinse his face.

He shook his head slowly, "No, you don't, Bryn. We are hot-natured, and it got the better of both of us. Let's just agree to put it behind us."

I asked, "So, would you tell me why it bothers you so much to ask me for help? I don't want to cause any more problems between us unknowingly."

He sighed, "I will tell you, but I'm not sure you'll like the answer."

I nodded at him encouragingly, and he began, "It is difficult for me to ask you to help me with something so personal. I'm not going to pretend to understand how or why it happens, but I get that we have to fight my beast spirit. That makes me uncomfortable."

I tried to keep my tone even, as I wasn't quite sure what to make of his statement. "Farkas, I fought Kodlak's beast form and came out alive. I can do it again."

He stood up then, and made his way cautiously over to me, careful after last night's debacle. "I don't doubt your abilities. But, I know what kind of thoughts my primal side has had about you, and I am certain that Kodlak had no such ideas."

My eyes widened at his words, but I didn't dare speak. He stood before me, and continued, "I have tried very hard to keep that part of myself away from you, and it has been difficult."

My mind processed his words quickly. I had only seen Farkas in wolf form one time, on my acceptance mission, after I had foolishly gotten myself stuck in a trap.

I kept the shiver I felt out of my voice, "Once. I've only seen you once."

He nodded. "I couldn't risk losing control around you; I wasn't sure what would happen. Now, the only way to rid myself of the beast is to expose you to it. I do not like that."

I was torn in response to his words. On one hand he sought to protect me, which was honorable, but I was not some helpless maiden who needed defending. On the other, he was acknowledging something that my conscious mind had long refused to, but could do so no longer. My hircine instincts kicked in, recognizing what my human side would not. I found his eyes and stared into them defiantly, "I'm not scared, Farkas. Not of you, and not of the wolf. In fact…"

I let my voice linger, as I took a step forward into his personal space, allowing my body language to do the talking, "I am very interested to find out what you are so afraid of…"

His lip curled slightly in a snarl of warning, "You do not know what you are getting yourself into."

"I think I do. Now make ready. We leave for Ysgramor's tomb."