I am still trying to find a good day for up-dating this story. When would you guys like it updated?

Camilla Valerius was undeniably the love of Faendal's life and the object of his deepest and most sincere affection. He wasn't shy about telling anybody and everybody about his feelings, and anybody and everybody wasn't shy about telling him to go home, loser. He wasn't shy with telling people about his fervid hatred of Sven- his only rival in winning the heart of the maid- either.

So the wood-cutter left nothing out when he explained the situation to Alec. Once he was done explaining the stalemate love-triangle to his new found friend, Faendal went into an in-depth description of his plan to earn the girl's love once and for all. He elaborated every detail of each phase of the plan, being sure to go over possible mishaps and what Alec should do in the event of it. Alec tried to listen, but just couldn't get himself to absorb all the information that was being thrown so quickly at him in an hour's time. He got what he hoped were the major points: deliver a letter to Camilla and tell her it was from Sven and... that was it.

As it turned out, Camilla had been married to Sven for about eight years by now. Oh, and they had two kids; six year-old Hedgar and little Minnie, who was four.

Faendal was in denial about all these things, though. How he managed it was a mystery to everyone and a damn pain to Camilla.

Sven was quite unbothered by the whole thing- even by how often Faendal visited his wife while he was gone. One only had to remember the wood elf's place in town to understand why Sven didn't feel threatened in the least by the fool's frequent alone time with his wife. And Camilla, having realized that there was nothing she or her husband could do about his visits to Sven's home or his constant yammering, decided years ago that she might as well benefit from this somehow. There wasn't a day were Faendal visited and wouldn't be asked to sweep, cut food, dust, mend clothes, wash the laundry, or do whatever chore that was needing to be done. And Faendal, unable to move beyond the shelter of his delusional bubble, was of course all too happy to have his feelings exploited by Camilla.

That didn't mean the woman was welcome to having her children interact with the Bosmer and had made it a rule to stay away from "that strange wood-elf, his mind's not right." Naturally, that only made Faendal their favorite prank victim, as well as Hedgar's favorite target for rock-throwing.

Right then, Camilla was in her home mending one of Minnie's dresses which had mysteriously ripped while she was placing a bucket of water over "nobody's" door. Her husband had decided to stay home today (something about the elf and a damn house guest), and was sitting by the fire reading some book. She had found it odd that Faendal had not yet visited today and was beginning to hope that he might have gotten himself cut in two on the sawmill or that he had choked on an apple bite- or that a bear invaded his home and ate him!

There was a knock on her door.

Perhaps she had been hoping too soon.

She went to open the door and was surprised to see a strange boy looking up at her. The top of his body was soaking wet like he had dunked his head in the river and was dripping all over her porch.

"A really romantic love letter from Sven the bard." He said in a manner that wasn't at all un-casual as he handed a piece of parchment to her.

"Thank you," she said, taking the letter. "Uh, if you don't mind me asking; why are you dripping wet?"

"Oh. Yeah, Faendal said that happens sometimes," he smiled.

Er, right... Well, thank you for delivering this." She shut the door on the boy.

"What was that, honey?" Sven asked.

"Oh, just Faendal up to his usual shit." She held up the letter.

"Hmm, and what is that letter? Number 300?"

"I don't know," she grumbled. "He's been sending them at least twice a week for the past decade."

~|*O*|~

"HeEeeey, Ralof!" Alec called as he strolled down the road that went through Riverwood. He advanced slowly thanks to the over-stuffed knapsack he carried and the battered iron armor he wore.

"Fuck." Ralof whispered, dropping his head into his hands.

"That the boy you were trying to get rid of?" Gerdur asked as she watched the little Nord near them.

"He doesn't look so bad." she added.

It was mid-afternoon and they were sitting outside the family house by the crops, wanting to enjoy the icy-warm Skyrim sun. Ralof, still recovering from some injuries, was seated while his sister removed dry laundry from the line, folding, then placing it in a basket. It had been three days since Ralof escaped from Helgen or had seen or heard from the awful boy. He had actually begun to believe that he had gotten rid of the kid for good.

Ralof harumphed, "That's what you think. Guy's a complete fool- and I can't get rid of him! It wouldn't be so hard if he could just take a hint!"

"How about, 'go away'?" His sister teased.

"Twice."

"Oh, you poor thing."

"So good to see you again, buddy!" Alec panted when he was finally feet away from them. He collapsed, dropping his knapsack with him- something that caused the contents to spill out over the yard. Gerdur raised a brow but was unbothered by it unlike her brother who only fumed more.

"What are you doing here, Alyce?" he spat.

"It's Alec, actually. And I'm talking to you. I thought that was obvious?"

Ralof faced-palmed while his sister chuckled.

Alec seemed to just then take notice of Gerdur and smiled flatteringly at her.

"Why, Ralof! Is this your mother?"

Gerdur's smiled fell to a death ray and she gave the towel she was folding a heafty flick. (This was woman-code for 'you're an ass'.) Insulted, she turned back to her laundry, no longer acknowledging Alec.

Ralof rubbed his temples. "She's my sister, Alec."

"Oh," he said, still oblivious. "So Ralof, now that we're out of Helgen, where d'you reckon we're going now?"

The man groaned. He couldn't tell the boy where he was really going. It was clear now that whatever he did to get the boy out of his hair wouldn't work if he always knew where to find him. No, Ralof had to think of something... something to get him going in one direction so he could make his great escape...

"Er- you know, we actually need somebody to tell the Jarl of Whiterun that there are dragons on the lose."

"Do you?"

"Yes."

"Oh, I do hope you find someone then."

"Alec."

"Yes?"

"I was wanting you to do it."

"Were you? Okay, in that case I'll get right off to it. I won't let you guys down, I promise!"

Alec picked up his belongs and slowly set off.

Once he was out of sight, Gerdur huffed.

"That little shit!"

~|*O*|~

Thirty minutes later, Alec had finally made it into the Riverwood Trader.

"So, what'll you give me for these?" he said, placing the contents of his sack on the counter.

Lucan looked at the items: two daggers, five swords, a war-hammer, three maces- all iron, 3 shields and nearly a dozen cuirasses of either iron or leather.

"I'll give you 150 septims for all of it."

"150 septims?" Alec frowned.

"Would you prefer chickens?"

"No... I just was expecting a better offer for all this stuff. I went through a lot getting it here."

Lucan was about to reply, but Faendal burst through the door at that moment.

"Did you deliver the letter to Camilla?"

Alec nodded.

"Thanks," Faendal smiled. "What are you doing now?"

"Selling all my extra stuff. I've gotta' leave later to deliver a message to the Jarl of Whiterun."

"That's cool. Will you be around long enough for dinner?"

"I don't think so."

"Look, kid," Lucan said. "Are you going to take my offer or not."

"I need you to make a better offer than that."

"Than what?" asked Faendal.

"Than 150 septims."

Faendal looked at Lucan, "Come on man, you can do better than that."

Shit, Lucan thought. Now he had Faendal talking to him. There was only one way out of this for him now.

"You know what, kid. What if I gave you 1,000 septims? Final offer."

"1,000 septims?"

"I can't pay you that in chickens."

"I don't want chickens! You gotta' deal!"

Alec shook hands with Lucan and left with Faendal, taking his knapsack and earnings with him.

Lucan sighed. Had he just paid a fool boy 1,000 septims for a bunch of junk-weaponry to get rid of his annoying friend?

He took a sip from his tankard of mead.

Yes. Yes, he did. And it was worth every septim.

~|*O*|~

It was twilight when Alec began his journey to Whiterun.

Faendal watched as the boy disappeared off into the horizon and checked his pack. He had his bedroll, his map, his long bow, his sewing kit, and he had his copy of An Explorer's Guide to Skyrim. Everything was ready, everything was prepared.

He looked back up to find that Alec had already disappeared beyond horizon.

Crap.

Recalling the deer incident, Faendal had decided earlier that day that there was no way he was going to let that kid go anywhere by himself.

"Hey, wait up!" he shouted, disappearing beyond the horizon as well.

~|*O*|~

That night in Riverwood, a great bone-fire celebration was held in honor of the hero, Alec, who had taken their village idiot away from them. Faendal's reign of terror was finally over. From now on the good citizens of the village could go to bed at night without the fear of knowing they would have to be putting up with Faendal in the morning all over again.

And that is how Alec did his first good deed for the people of Skyrim.

Nothing like a 14 year-old wing-man to help you win the heart of your true love! ... Or not.

Now, about Alec dripping wet and stuff. You remember Minnie and that bucket, don't you? Yeah, I had seen a little something in my head as Alec left Faendal's house to give the letter to Camilla. He opens the door, bucket falls on him, and Faendal just shrugs like, "that happens sometimes." He's supposed to be in denial about Camilla- so I imagined that would have to include the kids and what they do to him. So, what does he think causes the bucket that falls on him so often then?...

Alec finally has somebody to watch his back and keep the deer at bay on his adventures! But will Faendal be of any help? Will he be the only follower trapped in a bubble?

In fantasty novels I had always loved how protagonist's would usually have that party of six or so individuals all helping him out. You know, with the archer, and the mage, and the knight, and the priest or healer... Point is: I was really disapointed with the one-follower at a time thing in Skyrim, with the exception of animals and summoned stuff. So, if you hadn't already guessed from the summary, Alec will have his own "specialized" party as well!

All this talk about followers had me thinking: who's your favorite Skyrim follower?

Thanks to everyone for their favs, follows, and reviews! Reviews mean so much to me and never fail to make my day!

Special thanks to my beta, timeywimeyspaceywacey, for all her help and feedback! Without her honest commentary before-hand, I would never have published this parody.

Another thank-you to Douglas Adams whose Hitchhiker's Guide Saga really helped me figure out all this funny business. Rest in peace.

Thanks for reading and please review!