A/N: This was actually going to be a one-shot, but due to some encouraging comments on AO3 I have decided to expand on it. I'm writing this as we go along so I don't have a set update schedule. So sporadic updates apply!

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When misrule takes its place at the eight corners of the world

When the Brass Tower walks and Time is reshaped

When the thrice-blessed fail and the Red Tower trembles

When the Dragonborn Ruler loses his throne, and the White Tower falls

When the Snow Tower lies sundered, kingless, bleeding

The World-Eater wakes, and the Wheel turns upon the Last Dragonborn.

Vilkas lay stretched out on his bed re-reading the last lines of The Book of the Dragonborn. Ever since he ran into the dragonborn almost a week ago, he thought it prudent to re-familiarize himself with one of the oldest Nordic tales.

"Every Nord should know this tale," Jergen told him and Farkas when they were pups. "It is intertwined with our history."

"Back during the founding of the first empire?" Vilkas asked.

"That's right," Jergen smiled proudly. "I see you have been diligent in your studies Vilkas."

I took such pride from that comment. Vilkas frowned at the memory. Little did Farkas and I know he would soon leave to join the Great War.

Vilkas had long accepted the idea Jergen might not have been their father. For if he was, how could he leave his sons? Even if they were in the care of the other companions, a true Nord wouldn't abandon their only kin.

Enough! Vilkas mentally snapped at himself. I am not some weak willed pup in need of a caretaker.

He and Farkas were grown up. They had become more than capable of fending for themselves.

"...I would rather not worry about the life of someone fighting at my side. No matter how capable they are in battle."

The words of the Dragonborn suddenly entered his mind and caused Vilkas to let out another sigh. He didn't want to admit it, but her gentle words stung his pride as a warrior. He had worked hard to make sure he was a worthy companion and a reliable fighter.

It would have been an honor and a true test of his abilities to fight at the side of the Dragonborn.

Carefully, Vilkas closed the book he was reading and set it on his night stand. Perhaps it's for the best. Joining her would have meant leaving Farkas behind until I could convince her to let him join us.

Besides, if he was being completely honest with himself, he had sounded like some simple minded fool around her. It wouldn't surprise him if the Dragonslayer thought he was some ice-brain mercenary looking for an easy way to gain fame and glory.

The companions had many "recruits" trying to join them for such things and Vilkas had kicked them out personally (sometimes literally).

Fame and glory should be earned by those seeking it. Not given to those who only want to live in the shadow of their betters.

"Vilkas? Dinner is ready," Tilma stated as she softly rapped on his door.

"Thank you. I'll be out shortly," he replied before getting off his bed and stretching.

Taking one last look at The Book of the Dragonborn, Vilkas made a silent vow. Next time we meet I'll present myself better.

At least, he hoped to see the legendary Dragonslayer again. She knew who he was and although it was unlikely, there was still a chance she may call upon him at Jorrvaskr.

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All around the city of Whiterun torches were being lit and the stars were decorating the night sky. Citizens and guards were walking around the Gildergreen making patrols or going towards The Bannered Mare for supper.

A soft breeze caressed the cheek of the Dragonborn as she stood on the bottom steps leading towards Jorrvaskr. She took pleasure in the feel of the fresh cool air around her and slowly took a breath. Mentally preparing herself to entire the Companion's legendary establishment.

It had been a long time since she walked the halls of Jorrvaskr. If Vilkas didn't recognize me in the fields then they probably think I'm dead or have given up on becoming a companion. If so, she couldn't blame them.

The last assignment she completed was almost a season ago.

"A warrior's heart knows it's way home." Kodlak had said to her the night she left Jorrvaskr.

For some reason, it didn't take much to convince the old Harbinger to grant her a leave of absence from the companions. If anything, the Harbinger seemed to be expecting it. It was as if Kodlak knew I was heading out to see the Greybeards. She grew nervous at the thought. Is it that obvious, I'm the Dovahkiin?

After the western watchtower incident, she petitioned Jarl Balgruuf to keep her real identity a secret. Being known as the Dragonborn would draw all kinds of attention to her and anyone she associated with. From past experience, that kind of attention ended in people's death.

Balgruuf said he would grant my request and send word to his men to keep their mouth shut, she reasoned. But even a Jarl can't keep bored (or drunk) guards from gossiping.

She let out a long sigh, I suppose the only way to know for sure is to speak to Kodlak.

Great, now there were two people she was really nervous about seeing in Jorrvaskr.

"Ronna?" a deep grizzly voice cut in and interrupted her thoughts.

She was engulfed in a shadow of a rather large person. I really need to pay more attention to my surroundings. She silently chided before turning around with a smile.

"Farkas, it's good to see-" before Ronna could finish her sentence the tall burly companion had swept her up in a hug.

"Good to see you too! I was beginning to think you left for good. What kept you?"

"Mmmph!"

"Huh?"

"Can't...Breathe" she gasped while still in his bone crushing grip he called a hug. Sometimes Farkas didn't know his own strength.

"Oh! Sorry!" he quickly, but gently set the woman back on her feet. "Forgot how fragile you are."

Once she caught her breath Ronna cleared her throat and chuckled. "Everyone is fragile when compared to you, friend."

He grinned in response, "I suppose you're right on that one."

In Ronna's first days as a companion in training, Farkas was one of the few companions that welcomed her into the fold. Patiently answering any questions she had, saving her a portion of food if she was late for dinner, and checking in on her periodically to see how she was doing. The kindhearted man had been the first companion she got to know and the first she called friend.

"So what are you doing just standing here? Admiring the stars? Or are you going to come in and greet everyone?" Farkas teased before gently messing with her hair.

She gave a slight frown as she playfully batted away his hand, "Well I was hoping to make myself presentable first…."

Fakras laughed while the Nord woman ran a hand through her blonde locks several times. Ronna always was a little vain.

"Okay that's enough," the tall companion said before scooping up Ronna and carrying her on his shoulder like a sack of grain. "I don't want to be waiting for you all day."

"Wait! What are you doing?! Put me down Farkas!"

Her protests went unheeded as Farkas walked up the steps towards the the hall doors. He didn't even flinch under the weight of the woman on his shoulder.

"It's dinner time and I would like to eat some before it's all gone." He replied with mirth in his voice. "You should too."

"I wasn't going to take that long! Oh come on, put me down! This is embarrassing!" Ronna was hanging upside down and staring at Farkas's back.

"Nah, it's faster this way."

"You mean funnier." She huffed.

"That too," The burly companion chuckled as he reached for the door handle.