Hello everyone! Thanks for taking the time to give this story a look! Stella is probably my third character in Skyrim, but she was the first one whose story became really fleshed out. I fell in love witb Farkas on my first playthrough, but I wanted to 'play the field' (as my friend puts it) to see who else there was and never ended up getting married. Stella met Farkas and never wanted to leave him again.

I hope you enjoy the story~ Please review so I can do my best to improve in future chapters!

Thanks again!

~rabiote

PS,

Skyrim belongs to Bethesda, not me.

A quiet breeze rustled the moonlight trees in the forests between Helgen and Riverwood. Any soul foolish enough to be wandering in the forests of Skyrim during the full moonwould have paused in wonder at the strange trio moving together through the brush. A sleek-looking hunting dog and a fat, obviously well cared for, pony were lazily following a full-grown white werewolf through the forest, meandering silently after the massive creature. The shewolf looked back every few minutes, seemingly to check on her followers as they trekked over the rough ground. Although they were careful to stay under the cover of the trees in the dark forest, the trio steadily made their way towards Riverwood. As the light began to stretch over the horizon, the werewolf paused. She growled as a ripple of change began to shake her body. Stumbling to her knees, the muscular form of the beast cracked and stretched as the call of Hircine faded from her blood. The hunting dog yawned, laying down on a patch of grass, patiently waiting for his mistress.

A small mer stood and stretched in the early morning sunlight. "Ugh, it's always the change back that hurts the worst, Eclipse."

The dog woofed and thumped his tail good-naturedly. Stella laughed and patted the dog on his head as she made her way over to the pony. She rummaged through the sizable saddlebag and pulled out her equipment and some food. Tossing a rabbit haunch to the dog, she quickly stuffed a hunk of bread and cheese into her mouth before pulling on her armor and a small quiver of arrows. As she ran a brush through her dark hair and pulled it back into braids, Stella watched the forest come to life around her. Dawn was always her favorite time of day in Skyrim, and she took a moment to watch the sun rise slowly over the mountains. Forgetting for a moment all her worries, she laid back onto the grass and closed her eyes.

Who are you? The Nord, Hadvar, had asked her. My name is Stellarys, she had said. Her full name bringing a wave of sadness through her. Her mother had been the only one to use her full name regularly; her father and the rest of the pack preferred to call her Stella. She didn't know who she was anymore. She had failed her family, her pack. They all lay dead, taken from her by werewolf slayers, and soon she would be joining them in the Hunting Grounds. She had been so ready to be reunited with her pack. Ready to leave this dammed place where she and her kind were feared and hated because they dared to accept gifts from a god. But that...monster had attacked. A dragon! A beast of legend! It came from the sky and plunged her life again into flames. She had managed to escape that burning place with the help of Hadvar. But the monstrous black dragon that spit licking flames at her body would be haunting her dreams. Fire, heat, flames, burning, consuming everything, everywhere.

Jolting upright, Stella shuddered at the memory of the dragon's fire. Eclipse immediately moved to her, laying his heavy head on her lap, and looked up at her with his comforting brown eyes. She smiled down at the lanky dog, stroking his head gently. Clamboring onto her lap, the huge dog licked her face excitedly. She laughed and pushed him away playfully. Stella rose to her feet, resecured her pony's bags, and lifted herself into the saddle. It was time to continue towards the village. She was always apprehensive about Nord villages as, in her experiences, they rarely went out of their way to be friendly to any mer, especially one with mixed blood. Stella counted her lucky stars that she looked enough like her dunmer mother to keep most nords simply annoyed at her presence. With tensions against the Thalmor and their allies nearing a breaking point, Stella did not need to look any more like her bosmer father.

Trotting nearer Riverwood, she was surprised to catch sight of a bosmer casually walking towards the village. He turned and caught sight of her, a warm smile creasing his features. "Greetings sister elf! Nice to see another mer so far from home."

Swinging casually off of her pony, Stella looked up at the male bosmer as he peered down at her curiously. "You...you are dunmer?"
Wincing inwardly, Stella grinned up at him. "Last time I checked, brother."

Still looking at her with a curious expression on his angular face, the bosmer shrugged and placed his hands on his hips. "So, how can I help you on this fine day?"

"I'm looking for Hadvar... or his uncle. Where can I find them?"

The bosmer pointed back over his shoulder. "Hadvar? I thought he was off with the legion? His uncle's smithy is just inside the village. You can't miss it."

Stella thanked the bosmer and leapt back into the saddle. She really needed to get herself a different hood. The mage's hood she had pilfered in Helgen was not helping her hide her odd features, and it would do her no favors in a group of nords. For now, though, she needed to get to Riverwood.

Two days later, Stella sneezed as she pushed open the gate to Whiterun. The blacksmith in Riverwood had asked her to go to the Jarl for help, and wanting to return a favor to Hadvar and the villagers, she had agreed. As soon as she had cleared the falls outside of Riverwood, however, Stella had caught the vague scent of werewolves. Apprehensive about meeting strange wolves, she had slunk around the city, trying to scout out the wolves. Finding nothing after a day of searching, she hoped that the vague scent of werewolf would fade once she entered the city; but if anything, it had gotten stronger. Her nose twitched with the menagerie of smells assaulting her nostrils, and Stella was anxious about her inability to detect the weres. She was not used to city life, so the myriad of new things both to see and smell was sure to drive her mad. Eclipse looked up at her warily, sensing her nervousness. Stella knew her own smell was disguised both by Eclipse and the large sachet of dried lavender and juniper concealed in her armor, but her were-scent still was detectable, she knew that.

The guards paid her little attention as she walked slowly into the main square of Whiterun. The sight of the tavern made her mouth water with the idea of a warm-cooked meal. She really needed some food and a soft bed. Passing the small marketplace, she caught sight of a male nord leaning heavily on one of the stalls, obviously flirting with the woman behind it. The stench of his lust made Stella curl her nose in disgust. The Imperial woman that he faced looked angry and harassed as she turned away from the man. Shaking her head vehemently, the woman crossed her arms. The man stood and laughed as he made his way towards the tavern.

Stella watched the fury that shadowed the womans face. There was a sense of helpless frustration that intruiged the dunmer. Curious, she slowly made her way over to the stall and quietly browsed the wares. The harried Imperial gave on last glower in the direction the nord had taken before turning towards the elf, a small smile brightening her face. Stella continued to pick through the selection, piling apples into her arms, and smiled back at the woman. She dug through her pack for some gold coins, and asked causally, "So, is that guy bothering you?"

A frown crossed the pretty Imperial woman's face. "Bothering is an understatement. He won't leave me in peace...just like all the other blasted men in this town."

"What? Why?"

"My husband died a while ago, and ever since every male in this town has decided that I am some simpering female that needs to be cared for. Even some of the single men have tried to bed me. Why can't they understand that the only thing that I'm concerned about right now is providing for my daughter."

Stella saw a wave of sadness pass over the woman's face at the mention of her dead husband and her heart ached for the Imperial. Patting the woman's hand, she gently asked, "Would you like me to talk to him for you?"

The woman smiled, but looked down at Stella's small form with doubt. "Are you sure you'd be okay? I'd love for him to leave me alone, but I wouldn't want you to get hur-"

Stella giggled. "I promise, the only one who will be hurting will be him."

The imperial smiled down at the dunmers large pile of apples. "You get rid of Mikael, and you get all the apples you can eat."

Farkas entered the Bannered Mare with his brother and Aela. As a rule, he preferred drinking at Jorrvaskar; either in his room or with his shield siblings. But a few weeks earlier, Vilkas had caught sight of the new serving wench, Saadia, so they had been frequenting the Bannered Mare much more often. The redguard woman seemed as intent on avoiding Vilkas as he was in pursuing her. The moment they walked in, Farkas saw the bard starting a fight in the back corner but didn't pay it much attention. The shameless bard was always fighting with some person or another. Aela snorted at the fight, turning to grab a bottle of mead from Hulda before heading towards her friend Uthgerd in the back of the tavern. Farkas stood with his brother, watching him scan the crowd for the redguard. Caching sight of her in the kitchen, Vilkas grinned and ran a hand roughly through his hair. "Wish me luck, brother."

Farkas smiled at his brother retreating back before the commotion near the fire drew his attention again. Looking closer, he realized there was what looked like a tiny elfen female fighting with the bard. The larger nord had the girl in a headlock and was appearing to take liberal opportunity to run his other hand across her chest. Farkas saw a flush of rage appear across the females face before she stomped down heavily on his foot. With a shout of pain, the nord man released the female. She spun around lightly and punched him expertly on the jaw. A muffled crunch and a groan of pain followed as the man hit the floor loudly. The dark elf grabbed her tankard and raised it in victory as the women around her cheered.

Farkas raised his mug in salute as she drank to her victory. Suddenly, the downed nord leaped to his feet and picked up the elf, whispering somthing in her ear and planting a kiss on her lips. A feminine shriek of outrage shook the rafters and Farkas winced as the elf's fist contacted with the man's jaw again. The bard stumbled, laughing roughly, but kept his grip on the struggling elf. Farkas watched with interest as the tiny female fought to free herself from the larger nord. For some reason the sight of this female writhing in another man's arms was rubbing him the wrong way. He fought down the snarl that threatened to erupt from his throat. The bard should not touch her like that.