Chapter 1: The New Recruit

"Don't tell me you actually invited that whelp to Jorrvaskr!" Njada huffed while walking with Aela back to their home. Farkas caught the last bit as he was nursing a sword-weary arm, "Sister, it's his decision. Me, I'd probably welcome another brother that doesn't call me thick."

"I didn't invite him; I merely made a suggestion. And in all actuality, it is Kodlak's decision, Brother," Aela replied, pacifying Farkas and only upsetting Njada further.

"Maybe you are interested in what he has under that tight, full-body leather armor, eh? And I bet he's a looker under that hood, too," Njada said spitefully, looking to her Shield-Sister's nearly impassive face. Annoyance flickered in her eyes, but nothing more. Narrowing her eyes, Njada looked to Farkas, hoping that he could be tricked into the disagreement. "What say you, Farkas? Aren't you curious about our possible new brother?"

Farkas glanced to his right as he came to flank Aela. "He seemed to be good with a bow, even better with a sword. Even when he only had his claws, that Khajiit still fought. I'd be happy with him in the Companions."

"Well, I say it's too soon to tell." Aela spoke sharply, as if daring further arguing. Njada risked one searing glare, Farkas nodded, and all three fell into an almost-complacent silence as they neared the gates of Whiterun. The guard gave them a small bow and allowed them into the city. As they passed into the city, Farkas peered over his shoulder and just could make out a lone figure in leather armor with a twitching tail in the light of the moons.

~oOo~

The next few days found Farkas wandering about Jorrvaskr, restless and needing to do something. On the third day, he finally asked Kodlak if he might go to the market to see their meat and metalwork. Vilkas and Kodlak exchanged amused glances, but Kodlak let him go, reminding him that Whiterun was their city and he needed no permission to walk its streets. Farkas thanked him, and crossed Njada's path as she discussed the Khajiit that they had encountered in the fields to Ria. "His arrow almost missed it's chest, but he must've had a lot of confidence, cause it hit and it hit hard!" She smacked her hand against her thigh. "Then he switched to his great-sword, and cut that giant across the legs. We thought he was finished when his sword was knocked clear out of the field, but apparently Khajiit aren't to be messed with. He dodged the giant at every turn, and slashed with his claws!"

Ria sat enraptured by the tale of the mysteriously Khajiit warrior and hung on to every one of Njada's words. Njada, pleased, sat proudly at the feast table. That look fell slightly, when Ria asked, "What did he look like? Was he handsome?"

"Well, he had a ragged hood, but his voice was soft, but there was just something about it. . . ." Njada trailed off, trying to remember more details for her tale, when Farkas came by. "That doesn't sound like you completely disagree with Aela when she hinted at an invitation," he chuckled deeply in his chest, and continued to the doors of Jorrvaskr. Njada could barely stave off Ria's excited chatter and questions about her tale.

Farkas came down the steps slowly, breathing in the crisp, cold air of the early morning. A good day to train, he noted without much thought. The temples were abuzz with priests and priestesses, the children had moved their games to this quarter, and the guards were relieving their fellows for some much needed sleep. Farkas knew that he should just go back and train with his brother, but something about today seemed off.

Someone had come to listen to the priest of Talos. He paid no heed until said someone was pushed, not hard, by a guard who said, "Go fiddling with any locks, and we'll have a real problem, Khajiit."

Farkas held onto that last word, and turned to see the figure. The Khajiit that felled the giant was righting himself and smiling good-naturedly at the guard, who clapped his shoulder at something the cat said. Turning, the cat caught Farkas' eye and smiled at him from underneath the hood. He bowed slightly and continued to listen to the priest. Farkas stared at the cat until the priest fixed him with a glare. He went started toward the market, then glanced back to see the Khajiit coming the same way, but on the other side and looking at the Gildergleam, almost sadly. Farkas' heart sped up for a moment, then stopped as the feline met his eyes from within the hood.

Making his way to the warrior, the Khajiit stepped slightly to the side to avoid the water. Farkas found that endearing, although he couldn't think of why. They met each other at the steps to the market, each acutely aware of the other. Farkas started when a voice tinged with a purr spoke from the hooded head. "A lovely day for a stroll, is it not, honored warrior?"

Farkas hummed in response, trying to relax with the cat this close. The Khajiit cocked his head to the side like a puppy when puzzled. Farkas glanced at his companion and was pleased that his smile was still in place. As they came down the bottom stairs, they overheard Carlotta Velentia arguing with a very spirited young man. The Khajiit to his left slightly hissed as the young man walked by, but briskly walked with purpose to Carlotta's stall. Farkas decided to see what he would do and walked with him. The cat put on a gentle smile and spoke to the lovely woman. "My lady, that man was not troubling you, was he?"

Carlotta looked up in surprise; perhaps at the Khajiit's lilting and soothing voice, or perhaps at his use of a title and charming politeness. She leaned on her arms on the stall. "Life's hard enough with all these men propositioning me. But that bard is the worst," she replied.

"You get a lot of attention then, hmm?" The cat said, speaking more plainly to her to ease her tension. She met his eyes almost angrily, but he maintained that gentle look.

"You've got no idea! Half the men in Whiterun have proposed to me; some were even single. They'll never understand," she said lowering her voice. She looked up the steps to the temple district, where the children played. "No amount of flowers or honeyed words are going to change my mind. Right now, all that matters is my little girl Mila."

"Ah, so Mila is your daughter! She is such a little lady, ma'am, so now I can say that I know where she gets that from!"

Carlotta's cheeks turned a little pink at that. "No man's going to get between me and my little girl." She resolutely turned to her wares as someone passed.

"But is someone bothering you about that fact?" The cat stepped aside to the edge of the stall, Farkas following and paying close attention to the situation.

"That bard Mikael is begging for a dagger against his throat, the way he goes on about me! I've heard him boasting at The Bannered Mare, saying he'll 'conquer me as a true Nord conquers any harsh beast.' Hmph!" The cat tensed at that, tail going stiff for half a second and smile vanishing. "I think that this Mikael and I should have a talk about respecting the good and honest womenfolk," he said, his smile returning, but it was a bit more angry than charming.

Carlotta was again shocked at this Khajiit's concern for her well-being and his mannerisms. "If you want to try, go right ahead. I don't think anything will get through that thick skull of his, though," she replied , skepticism heavy in her voice, and she bent over her stall to make sure her wares were still good and fresh.

The cat straightened and looked to Farkas. "Accompanying me?" He inquired amiably, an amused expression in his shadowed face. Farkas had to work to appear unconcerned, and quietly said, "If you don't mind." He watched with fascination as the whiskers on the cat's lower face twitched with silent laughter. Walking past him toward The Bannered Mare, the cat led Farkas with his swishing tail.

Upon entering the doors, the Khajiit gave the room a once-over and almost immediately spotted the bard. "If you would, honored warrior, wait at this table a moment," he said with a tone of finality. Farkas sat down warily and he eyed his companion thoughtfully. The cat gave a disarming smile, sending chills through Farkas' body. He then made his way to Mikael to give him that talk about 'respecting the good and honest womenfolk.' Farkas chuckled in his chest, knowing that the bard would think that the lithe warrior would not be a challenge. But if he had known that that same warrior had felled a giant that worried three Companions, he would be worried. Before speaking to Mikael, as if he heard Farkas' low chuckle as well as his thoughts, the feline gracefully turned and looked at him. No smile this time (which disappointed Farkas), but he said nothing, to bard or Companion. Then he turned back to the object of his assignment. Tail lowered and still, he looked as if he were hunting; but he wasn't crouched as if he were going to pounce. Farkas laughed again and this time his companion smiled at him, as if this were a game that he was playing.

"Excuse me, sir bard," said the Khajiit in a sweet voice, complete with a soft purr.

"Care to hear a song, cat?" Mikael said in an odd-sounding parody of the Khajiit's. He gave the slender feline a once-over and also kept an approving look towards him. "You might not even have to pay me for it, my sweet."

"I have heard something rather nasty about you, sir. You need to leave Carlotta alone." Farkas was surprised to hear such bluntness from his polite companion. He unconsciously leaned forward to hear more.

A smirk crept up the bard's face. "Carlotta put you up to this, didn't she? I'm sorry, but that fiery widow is mine. She just doesn't know it yet." The smirk grew wider as the words left his lips. The cat stiffened slightly, almost unnoticeably, but Farkas watched his tail's angry movements, curling and twisting around itself.

"I do not believe that women are to be owned," the cat replied, coldly. His words were dipped in an icy venom that stilled the rest of the room. The patron of The Bannered Mare watched them stoically, but watching all the same. "She's not yours. Stop this nonsense."

"What did you just say, my sweet kitten? All I heard was the sound of an ill-placed jealousy." The honeyed words of the bard, along with the nickname, were only making the Khajiit angrier; his tail now stilled with a chilling intensity, and his shoulders going tense. He replied, with uncanny calmness to his words, "Leave her alone, my sweet minstrel, or else."

Pure anger, unrestrained, flooded the bard's face. "I don't have to take that from you!" He launched himself at the cat, who deftly sidestepped him. The feline balled his fists, put them before his hooded face, and assumed a brawling stance. Mikael straightened and threw a heavy swing into the cat's gut. He didn't double over, but Farkas saw the strength it must have taken for the cat to have not done just that. Instead, the cat struck out and grazed Mikael with three claws. Infuriating him more, the cat back-stepped and feinted towards him with a sudden deftness. Mikael, caught unaware, stumbled and his defense wavered. The Khajiit landed three more blows, one to the stomach and two to the face, and Mikael was down. Panting, the Khajiit straightened and huffed once at him.

When Mikael caught his breath, he stood and said, with a slightly sneer, "You know how to throw a punch, I'll give you that."

The cat fixed him with a stare. "You leave Carlotta alone, or this will get even worse." The cold tone made both bard and Farkas flinch. "And do not call me by anything other than what I wish to be called."

With a sigh, Mikael relented. "You win. On my honor, Carlotta won't have to worry about me ever again," he paused, then added, "And also on my honor, I will not call you any nicknames. Unless we get to know each other better." He winked once at him, and turned back to his instrument and audience.

The cat bristled, but bit his tongue with visible effort. He turned back towards Farkas and made his way over. Farkas stood and raised an eyebrow at him. The Khajiit gave him a blank look for one moment and said, "I prefer The Drunken Huntsman anyway. Shall we?"

Farkas grinned widely and the friendly smile from before found its way back onto his companion's face.

Walking back to Carlotta's stall, Farkas studied the cat by his side more closely. The hood had partly fallen, and locks of long black hair fell forward. Two large black ears were just peaking under the edge, and stunningly blue cat-eyes peered at him curiously, but maintained the friendliness that seemed to radiate from him. The cat's nose was a dusky pink color, while his fur was a dark gray, borderline black. He also had three scars marring his cute face; one near his right eye, one below his left ear, and the final one on the bridge of his nose. These scars spoke of a hard past, but instead of making him look fierce, Farkas thought them to be endearing, especially when the cat cocked his head to the side and gave him a side-long glance.

Farkas was snapped out of his reverie when they abruptly stopped in front of Carlotta's stall. "My good lady," he said, smiling, "Mikael will not be bothering you again."

Carlotta just stared at him skeptically for a moment, then gave a surprised intake of breath. "Really? You convinced that lute player to stop chasing me?" The cat cocked his head to the side playfully and pouted. "What is the matter? Is not that what you wanted? Perhaps I should go back and tell him. . . ."

As he turned, she laughed loudly and grabbed his arm to stop him. He took the hand she laid on her arm and swung her in an odd dance. Both laughed and she said, "You're such a playful man!" He halted and took off his hood. His ears twitched wildly and he swung his tail around. "Not a man, my lady, I am but a wandering tomcat!"

Carlotta smiled at him and smacked his arm, returning to behind her stall. "I'd thank the gods, but I'll settle for thanking you, wandering tomcat. Here's some coin for your help, and you are welcome anytime."

The cat smiled a little sadly. "I cannot take this from you. I did only what any decent person should."

"And I am only giving you the gratitude and payment that any decent person deserves for a good deed. Please, tomcat?" He reluctantly took the money and flashed her a grin, knowing that he'd been had. "Well then, my lady, I'll thank you kindly and stop blocking your stall. Give my regards to the little lady Mila!" he turned and did a funny little half wave at her, and he and Farkas walked back up through the temple district.

"Well, my friend, I do find it questionable that we have undertaken that little quest and we do not even know each other's names," the feline said, stepping in front of him.

"Farkas, of the companions. I saw you the other night when you took down that giant," he said. He suddenly thought that if this cat wanted his name, then he would probably be sticking around. That strangely made him almost giddy with happiness.

"Well met, Farkas," The Khajiit purred at him. Farkas loved the way his accent made his own name sound. "My name is Jarod. I suppose I shall see you around, then." and with that, Jarod deftly turned a corner and went inside the Temple of Kynareth.

Farkas stood there a moment longer, and headed up the stairs to Jorrvaskr. "Jarod, huh?"