The thought alone had a crooked grin lighting his paint marked face. He followed along at his shield sibling's back proudly, glaring off anyone that came too close as she led the way to Jorrvaskr, the Companion's mead hall. Apparently, word had gotten around that the Dragonborn had appeared in town fast because they had gained a crowd that watched her pass with fascination and awe. Claret didn't look at any of them; couldn't bring herself to meet anyone's gaze or see the hope and expectation on their faces. Instead she focused on the anger that simmered in her guts and warmed her from the inside out. Both the wolf and the dragon in her wanted answers.
Unfortunately, her aloof seriousness only had the citizens all the more excited and enchanted by the legendary warrior made flesh. Afterall, heros were supposed to be focused, intimidating, mysteries, were they not? Sure.
She strode into the mead hall like a small snowstorm and stopped in the entryway with an anticipatory energy coiling about her limbs. Aela was the first to meet her gaze, the taller female rising to her feet at the sight of them. Slowly, the rest of the Companions gathered at a safe distance around the main room, watchful, hesitant. Claret inhaled and winced at the scent of the room. Fear, anger, sorrow, all of it mingled into a bitter stench that had her exhaling through her nose sharply to clear it with a snort. Farkas was a big, warm, wall of support at her back, standing close behind her as she let her eyes adjust to the room. There were several more wolves than the last time she'd walked these halls. Claret wasn't quite sure what to think.
The harbinger had been against the passing on of the wolf blood, and the last that she had heard, Kodlak had been set on seeking out a cure for it. Claret was torn on the matter. She enjoyed being a wolf; loved the feel of the wind in her fur, the scents of the night, the thrill of hunting and running with her pack. However, the Companions were not a very unified pack. Their alpha refused to be an alpha. The others respected his decision, and all of them went about pretending to be anything but wolves. At least, they tried very hard. The wolf blood called to them all and to deny it was to invite disaster. But Kodlak feared the afterlife. For all of the respect that Claret had for her adopted father, she had always questioned his choice to abandon the instincts to lead. Yes, the Companions were founded by mortals and yes they still tried to uphold the traditions of allowing each warrior to be independant and free to do as they wished.
However, they weren't mortal, not anymore, and without a firm alpha to keep them in check, accidents were bound to happen. Skjor and the others of the circle were experienced, disciplined, and for the most part, understood the wolf. But to turn the others? Claret's sea blue eyes roamed over the hesitant faces in the dim light. Ria, Torvar, Athis, and Njada lingered near the edges of the room and each one of them was wolf. These four had been with the Companions for years as mortal members outside of the circle and Claret had fought alongside each one of them, trained with them, grew to know them as family even if she didn't get along well with all of them. Now they watched her as though she were a dragon in a sheep pen. It really wasn't too far from the truth.
There were also a few new faces among them that she did not remember. A khajit; which was funny, lounged back near Ria, looking large and like typical muscle. He seemed wary, like the others, and a bit confused. She wasn't fully certain if he was wolf or not, honestly. Her gaze then moved to two men that weren't far from him, one was a bosmer, younger, and looked to be having the time of his life watching this whole thing play out. Some shiny new warrior pup come to watch the big kids throw their weight around. And the last was a Nord. Red haired, bright eyed, and pale skinned, he matched the bosmer in his enthusiasm. Ugh.
Claret focused her attention on Aela, the only potential threat in the room. The red haired wolf crossed the room to look down at her, her emotions off of her features, but Claret could see the rigid set to her shoulders, the way her jaw ticked from grinding her teeth. She was nervous and uneasy. It was odd to see the level headed woman wound up, but Claret couldn't say that she could blame her.
"Welcome home, sister," Aela began, and the name held a bit of scorn. She knew that Aela was pissed at her for leaving. Infact, of all of the companions, Claret had known that the she wolf would be the most upset and disappointed in her. And that hurt. But it was expected. Claret welcomed it, " Vilkas is waiting for you with Skjorr in the underforge. What we need to talk about is not for normal ears."
Claret's eyes narrowed when Aela let out a low growl that mortal ears wouldn't have picked up on and the pack migrated outside. Every last one of them save for the old maid, Brill, and old Vignar went out to the yard. The white haired woman turned and looked up at Farkas. He flinched.
"I know what you are thinking. I wasn't too happy about it either, but the others wanted it. We were falling apart. The welps were only being kept in line by honor alone and honestly, it was barely holding them in place. The hand had the advantage. Aela and Skjor talked with Vilkas about it for a long time and he finally agreed," The big man relented and she could practically see his ears laying flat in shame.
"You didn't say anything?" She demanded, knowing that any protests he could have made would have been vastly outnumbered and mostly ignored.
"You know that I did! And you know how much good my opinions ever do!" Farkas snapped and Claret felt bad for biting at him. It wasn't his fault that he was programmed to follow. Well, not entirely. Claret let out a huff and invaded his personal space, hands lifting to rub affectionately at his jaw. His bass filled groan brought a soft smile to her face and she giggled when he tilted his face into her touch.
"I know. I'm sorry. I know that you are happy to go with whatever your brother wants. I should have been here," She apologized and he hummed his appreciation.
"You know I am going to tell Vilkas about this later, right?" He chuckled and Claret raised an eyebrow.
"Oh? So that he can bitch and moan at me for getting my germs on you?" She asked sardonically and Farkas laughed outright.
"No! Because I like rubbing it in his face that I'm your favorite. Makes him jealous," The long haired man all but cackled and Claret let out an undignified sound of disbelief. Yeah, right. Vilkas hated her guts. Right? "C'mon, you know, Aela."
Claret followed after Farkas, feeling a nostalgic sense of homesickness being back inside of the mead hall. She had forced the place out of her head, but honestly, she had missed it. Tilma's cooking, the warmth of the large hearth, the comfort of the furred beds in the common rooms, the familial companionship of just being with her pack. It had a warmth burning in her chest that almost chased away the unpleasant hole in her heart that Cicero's absence had caused. The yard was empty when they stepped out into the afternoon sun. They'd added more training equipment. It looked like the patio had been added to as well. The place was looking good and part of her was sad to see things changing without her.
They walked in a tense silence to the hidden entrance to the underforge, known to only the worthy. It was dark and smelt of pack and water and blood. The murmurs of the others up ahead had her tensing tighter than a bow string. This was going to suck. She could feel the press of Vilkas' energy from the entrance and the white haired woman swallowed hard. He was pissed. Farkas trotted down the tunnel to join them and Claret made herself breathe. May as well go and see what they wanted. She emerged into the main room, a large, circular cavern hollowed out smooth on all sides. A dias sat in the center, stone goblet carved from a stalactite rising out from it. The gift of the wolf was passed along in this chamber. This place was sacred to the Companions and was isolated enough to keep them from being overheard, no matter how loud things got.
"Ah so the prodigal daughter returns," Vilkas spat with a sneer. He stood at the back of the room on a raised platform before a set of five tall chairs. Those were new. Several more seats circled the sides of the room, leaving the center open. The pack were not sitting. They stood, as if preparing for a fight. Skjor and Aela stood to either side of VIlkas, Farkas hesitantly moving to stand with his brother. She noticed Vilkas trying to take a discreet sniff at his twin and had to hide a grin. Vilkas frowned further. Every eye was trained on her and it took all of her self control not to fidget under the attention. At the moment, she was an outsider, even if she was still technically a companion.
" Hello, Ass, enjoying yourself, are we?" Claret greeted the bristling man, smiling with false sweetness and batting her lashes as him. The black haired man growled and Farkas made subtle head shakes behind his twin. Even Skjor seemed a bit uneasy near the other male. Vilkas stalked forward to the edge of the platform and Claret felt her nerves vanish under her own anger. He was posturing and it had her own wolf growling. They did not submit to anyone! And if Vilkas thought that she would fall in like with the rest of the pups, than he was terribly mistaken. She moved closer until they were feet apart. Her body was relaxed, despite the tension in her gut. SHe wouldn't give him the satisfaction of showing that he affected her in any way at all.
" I see your time away didn't make you any less of a vile hag," He hissed and she laughed then, an affectionate, yet mocking sound that had her tilting her head almost playfully to look up at him on his perch.
"And I see that you still haven't managed to pull that stick out of your ass. Pity," She retorted and his face grew red in his anger. "I am sure that you didn't drag all of us down here just to have a temper tantrum at me. What do you want from me?"
He stiffened more, if that were possible and seemed to gather himself, tap into that well of calm that he tried to exude at all times. Lately, it hadn't been possible. He was volatile and borderline violent in the wake of Kodlak's death. He took a deep breath and let it leave him in a slow exhale that cleared his head a bit. She was in front of him again and she was just as infuriating as always. They had always been like this, even when they had been pups. He had started it, of course, but it had been her fault for being so damn cute when they were growing up together. Claret had never been one to take his crap, and had been more than a handful. She'd go out of her way to torment him. That had turned into a habit that he liked to believe he hated. In reality, he looked forward to trading insults with her.
"As my brother has no doubt told you, our Harbinger has been murdered by the Silver Hand," Vilkas began, swallowing down misery.
"Yes, about that. How? And for that matter, why? They wouldn't have acted without provocation," She pressed, her anger coloring her tone.
"Does it matter?! We should go and murder those bastards!" Torvar shouted from nearby and as one, Claret and Vilkas whirled to snarl at him, flashing teeth. The bearded man slunk back from them, wide eyed and suddenly terrified. Torvar was no alpha like they were and they did not appreciate anyone interfering in the little dance number.
"They snuck in an assassin. They came here looking to join our ranks," Vilkas began, running a hand wearily over his face that looked so very tired, even in the dim light. He was a perfect reflection of Farkas, but clean cut, wavy locks falling at jaw length. He'd bulked up too it seemed. Silver eyes met her and there was so much disappointment in them, " Some nord woman showed up here like every other recruit a few months back. She was so eager to prove herself, so devoted to training and taking jobs. Reminded me of you a bit."
It was Claret's turn to bristle. She didn't like being compared to an assassin.
"Kodlak was a bit reluctant to accept her. I should have listened to him. But we were low on numbers. And she was… well, she was very convincing." Vilkas mumbled, looking ashamed.
"Ah, I get it. You fucked her," Claret deadpanned and Vilkas looked about ready to tackle her, " It isn't like you to be distracted by a nice pair of tits, Vil."
"Anyway," He growled out through his teeth, a sharp glare about the room silencing the snickers.
"In his defence, I trusted her too. She was strong, a quick learner, and definitely not what you would imagine an assassin to be," Aela added and Claret felt her heart clench.
"Farkas," Claret stated softly and the big man slumped, averting his eyes, " You didn't like her, did you?"
"No," He replied softly, giving an apologetic look to VIlkas.
"We get it, we should have done better. Rubbing it in our faces doesn't change anything," Vilkas snarled at Claret who finally had enough. She got up into his face on the platform, uncaring of the snarls around her and glared up at him for all of her worth. The unnatural energy of the wolf seeped out of her every pore and rushed through the room like a tempest.
"Wrong! You are missing the point. Again! Every single one of you shrugs off what Farkas says and knows because he is content to follow. Not ONE of you sees him as anything but a subordinate and because of that, you don't listen when he speaks," Claret stated and Vilkas' eyes rounded in a bewildered confusion. Farkas moved closer to interfere, face red.
"Clar, it is alright. You don't have to do this and I am not a thinker, we all know that," The long haired man said disarmingly.
"No it is not alright and yes, you are!" She hissed. Farkas watched her with wide eyes as she stalked around the room, glaring at each of them, " You want this to be a family. A pack. And yet, you don't even listen to each other. The opinions and instincts of each and every one of you is important. If you feel something isn't right, the circle should respond. Farkas is not the only one being overlooked. If you had taken a few moments to think with your head and pay attention to you brother instead of your dick then this may not have happened."
"Mighty big talk for a welp that ran away the moment that things went to hell," Vilkas stated in a low, dangerous tone. Claret flinched almost violently. Vilkas knew her too well it seemed. Most assumed she ran off to find the Greybeards and save the world. Vilkas knew better.
"You're right. I ran," She confirmed and the room broke out into murmurs.
"I ran because I was a little girl that had just found out that the continuation of life as we know it rests on her shoulders. Because I had to stand out there on that field BY MYSELF without my so called pack and face a dragon. And then to have the Jarl naming me thane on top of that just HOURS after you rejected me because you couldn't stand the thought of touching a 'filthy Sithis worshipper' like me," She was gone. There was no stopping it as the pent up anger and hurt poured from her lips. Farkas turned an angry glare on his twin and the underforge had gone deathly silent. She was far from finished, " I am no hero. I never have been. I was a thief in the making before Kodlak found me and who knows what before then. But I found a reason to learn how to be one and I am learning every single day how to be better.
"I've been running from myself and I am done. I should have been here. Maybe if I had been, then the man I see as my father would still be alive. I will never be able to make up for that, " She added, hot tears building in her eyes that she stubbornly fought off, " Kodlak wanted to be cured. He needs a cure so that he can go to Sovngarde where he belongs. I am going to put a stop to the World Eater so that this world can continue on and that cure can be found."
"As for...whatever this place is becoming," She gestured to the pack and the room with a mixture of disgust and exasperation, "I don't want any part of it. After the funeral, I am gone."
Claret made to stomp her way back outside, only to stop short when Skjor blocked her path. He motioned with his head back to the others and she growled low in her chest, glaring over her shoulder at the pack that had clustered together like a bunch of uncertain children. Vilkas still looked angry, but there was something else on his features that Claret couldn't place. He strode over to her, gaze sad and full of resignation. The big alpha glared at her for one long moment before dropping to a knee at her feet. He tilted his head to one side, exposing his neck to her in a gesture that was all wolf. Claret's pupils blew out wide as her wolf surged forward. A strangely powerful feeling sang in her insides over the shock at the unmistakably submissive gesture from Vilkas of all people.
"You have been named by Kodlak as his successor, Harbinger. But more than that, you are alpha, even to me," He admitted, before looking up at her through his dark lashes. She swallowed hard, unable to take her eyes from that pale, bare expanse of skin. She wanted to bite him there, she realized. Her instincts demanded it, clamored for it. The rest of the pack mimicked him, even Aela, crawling forward with more grace than any mortal should ever have. They flowed around her legs, crowding close to one another and basking in the energy of the pack building in the air. She was trying very hard not to drown in her instincts. Farkas grinned boyishly up at her from next to Vilkas, looking so damn pleased and proud of himself. He swept aside the thick fall of his hair and mirrored his twin. This wasn't fair at all. She huffed and bent down over Vilkas' neck, scenting his nervous unease blended with an oddly tempting colone of excitement and desire.
He wanted her to bite him too. She exhaled against his skin and he shivered, letting out a very soft whine and dipping his head further, trying to encourage her. But what would happen if she gave in? What would that make her? Was this what she wanted? Was he? Cicero.
Child. We need you.
The soft, loving voice of the dead woman had her freezing in place. The white wolf pressed against her, wanting out, urging her to take the pack, to take the powerful male as hers. But the woman's voice echoing in her mind with the soft scents of nightshade was just as compelling. Her heart wrenched painfully. That empty hole, that painful tugging on her insides moved to the front of her mind. Her wolf was snarling inside at her, the scent of power on the air stifling. They could all be so very powerful together. And she knew that is what they were asking of her. A powerful alpha to lead and guide a powerful pack. She drank down the scents of her family, the cloying, heady mixture of wolf and musk and the wilds all stirred together by that electrical charge. It tugged at things low in her gut and the alpha side of her was taking over with each and every breath. The blood in her veins rushed in her ears over the drumming of her heart.
"I am sorry," She murmured against Vilkas' neck and the big warrior let out a needy sound that she had only dreamt of when she was a silly, love struck teen. Her fingers moved to cradle his face gently, nails raking through his hair and pulling a happy sound from him. She'd never touched him like this before. Usually their physical contact was reserved to the training yard and violent. He leaned into her touch as though he craved it. And suddenly it all made sense. The teasing, the pranks, the constant excuses to get her riled up. The bastard was acting like a little boy with a crush. She hadn't seen any of it. Instead, she'd only seen a man that she looked up to, even loved, constantly rejecting everything that she did and looking down on her. Cicero's golden eyes and playful smile danced in her mind and Claret pressed a soft kiss to Vilkas' nape.
"Claret," Her name was a needy whisper that had her wolf howling at her to mark him.
"I can't," She felt herself say. The room went still. She stood and picked her way out of the crowd and out into the light.
The Bannered Mare was blessedly devoid of people that evening. Sure there were a few travelers, a couple regulars by the bar, but it was relatively calm and quiet save for the gentle strumming of a lute and the typical clattering from the kitchens. Claret had rented the loft room and closed the door after ordering dinner and enough alcohol to get her well and truly sloshed. She sat on the little balcony that overlooked the main room, high above the prying eyes below. Her armor abandoned, she lounged in a short, loose tunic and a pair of breeches that she'd cut far too short so that nearly the full expanse of her long legs were exposed. Barefoot and uncaring of modesty or socially accepted behavior for young women, she propped her legs up on the railing and swallowed another mouthful of Blackbriar reserve. Several bottles of various types littered the floor around her, some empty, others fresh and she picked restlessly at the tray of cheese and fruit on the table beside her.
She'd been up there for hours, stewing in her misery. The werewolf could not believe herself. She had blatantly thrown their offer of leadership back in their faces and left. Again. It was childish and felt a bit petty. But she respected Kodlak too much to just let things go and fall to Hircine so completely. They were all so ready to be a pack, to follow her lead. But was it Claret that they wanted or the Dragonborn? She knew that it was foolish to brood over it. She was the dragonborn before she was a werewolf technically and she could never be anything but a dragon. The white haired woman knew that had things been different, had she not met Cicero that she would have taken the mantle of Alpha in a heartbeat.
"You gunna share any of that?" The gruff growl of Farkas' baritone had her jolting and blinking up at him owlishly. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn't smelt him or heard him at all and she berated herself for it. With a wry smirk, she tossed an unopened bottle of mead at him and the big man flopped down in the chair next to her with a sigh. They sat in an uncomfortable stillness while the black wolf downed the bottle in a few slow, long, gulps.
"If you came to bring me back, it isn't going to happen," Claret said stiffly, feeling the warm effects of the drink. Farkas chuckled and eyed her appreciatively from the corner of his eye.
"Nah. Easier to hoard all of your attention without the competition of the others," He joked and she snorted, scrunching her face up at him.
"And why pray tell, would you want my attention, of all things? I just walked away from our family and probably insulted Vilkas so much that he's never going to want to see me again," The woman asked with a sad sigh, popping a grape into her mouth. The sweet tang exploded across her tongue and she let out a happy sound, stretching languidly in her seat.
"I may be slow, but I'm not stupid," Farkas chuckled and suddenly the air seemed a bit thicker than before between them. There was a difference in how he looked at her, his eyes taking a slow walk over the golden planes of her lithe, muscled frame in a way that made gooseflesh skitter along her arms. She swallowed the sudden girlish flutter in her stomach. Was he flirting with her? Her eyes flitted up to his rugged face and those silver eyes that heated with lust. Yep. Definitely flirting. "Anyone with half a brain would want your attention, Claret."
Her tongue felt awfully thick in her mouth, as she choked on words. But this was Farkas! He laughed at the deep blush on her cheeks , a sound that was all masculine pride.
"Glad to see that I can make you squirm like that, even if I am still like a sibling in your eyes," He hummed before snagging another bottle. Claret averted her gaze and shifted a little uncomfortably. They had been...intimate a long time ago. Of course, it had been all three of them, sometimes Aela. Pups learning about their bodies, venting pent up hormones and bonding. Memories of being pressed between the twins had her flushing even more. They had all three been inexperienced and clumsy, both boys rougher than was comfortable and Claret too shy to do more than cling to them. Farkas chuckled again, knowing exactly what she was thinking about and the tips of her ears turned scarlet. His face sobered then, eyes sad.
"I miss those days," He confessed looking forlorn and needy and oh so far away despite sitting a foot from her, " Vilkas misses it too."
Claret blinked over at him in disbelief.
"No lie. He talks about you to me constantly. We were young and stupid. Don't think any of us realized what we had there," The dark haired nord mused and Claret nodded in agreement.
"If only," She murmured wistfully. They were a mess together, but they could have been a wonderful one. Claret had always been worried about hurting one of them, making them share. Now she realized how stupid a thought that really was. The twins were completely comfortable with one another, to the point that she knew for a fact that they held a much more than brotherly relationship going on. The fact that they had included her at all in their affections had flattered her immensely.
"That assassin that showed up. You should know that Vilkas only messed around with her because he thought that maybe he could forget about you. He was so convinced that you weren't ever going to come back, that we'd lost you," Farkas remarked and Claret whirled to look at him, brows high.
"But not you?" She asked softly as the big man turned to grin at her.
"Never. You are the only other person I really want in my life, honestly. Always have been. I'm not interested in getting close to anyone else. You and Vilkas are all that I need. And if that isn't right for you anymore, then that is fine too," Farkas explained casually and it took great effort on her part to not spit her mead across the room. She shakily sat the bottle down and curled in the chair, suddenly feeling so small next to the giant of a nord that had taken to casually running his fingers through her hair. Farkas was so easy to be around. Laid back, calm, accepting, no matter what. It was odd to be both comforted by his presence and also hyper aware of him all at once. This was the first time that Farkas had ever openly flirted or pressed any sort of buttons at all in that regard.
"Is Vilkas alright?" She asked meekly and the long haired man grunted softly.
"He will be. He needed a wake up call. Besides, later tonight should be fun," Farkas half growled and Claret felt heat crash through her as the thought of the twins together rolled through her head in a nude, sweaty, glorious mess, " Would be more fun if you helped."
"I don't think I can do that anymore," She said quietly and he nodded goodnaturedly.
"Can I at least know his name?" The man asked, eyes amused, despite the sting of disappointment. It had been worth a shot. Claret sighed softly and a bittersweet smile curled her lips.
"How do you know it isn't a woman?" She teased and Farkas snorted softly.
"Bah, you and I both know the only woman you've ever wanted to bed was Aela," He replied knowingly and she scoffed.
"Cicero. His name is Cicero," She murmured and Farkas furrowed his brows together.
"He hurt you," The big man growled protectively and she smiled at him. Farkas was too sweet for his own good under that gruff burliness.
"No. I...hurt him," Claret admitted and so she told him. Well, she left out a few things like the coffin, the voice, Cicero being somewhat murderous and crazy. She told him about traveling with the man, how aggravating the redhead could be and yet at the same time, affectionate, enthusiastic, and so very kind. And then she told him about Morthal and the vampires and the big man stiffened next to her. Thick, sloppy tears egged on by the alcohol rolled down her face and Farkas pulled the small woman into his lap, holding her close. She was very glad that he'd taken off his armor before coming to find her. She wept into his chest, fingers twined in his long hair and he held her tightly, letting her cry it out and rubbing her back in slow circles.
"It wasn't your fault," He said after her sobs had trickled off into breathy hiccups. "Both of you did what you had to."
"He wouldn't have been there at all if I hadn't agreed to help," She muttered into Farkas' tunic, damp from her tears.
"Could have, should have, wouldn't have, that doesn't matter. It did happen. No changing it. And he still tried to keep you safe, still got you out despite that. You left because you want to be better for him. Should you have told him? Yeah, but there isn't any point in looking back on it," He chided, leaning back in his chair as she curled against his chest. She blinked up at him through drenched lashes, face splotchy and eyes red.
"I ran away again," She stated and he tapped her nose with a big finger, making her scrunch it unhappily at him.
"And you'll go back to him," He replied confidently, earning a wide eyed look from her.
"He's a vampire," Claret retorted, and Farkas rolled his eyes.
"Yeah and you are a werewolf," He pointed out with a laugh.
"Being occasionally furry is very different from constantly dead, Far," She huffed at him and his laughter grew.
"So what?" He shrugged and she gaped at him. So what? WHat did he mean so what? Was he seriously suggesting that she ignore the fact that Cicero was a blood sucking monster? "Why does it matter? You want him. Go get him."
"Just like that?" She asked in disbelief and he nodded.
"Just like that," He confirmed with a wink. She stared at Farkas as though she hadn't seen him before. The big man was a calm, centered, unwavering rock and he always had been. He had become even more so in the past few years it seemed and underneath the calm, protective easy going demeanor, she could sense the alpha in him slinking under the surface. His self control was unreal. She stared up at him with wide, disbelieving eyes and he smiled a fanged smile down at her and let that alpha creep forward just a little. The energy knocked the breath from her lungs. He was ridiculously strong, stronger than Vilkas and it was stunning to feel. She nearly swallowed her tongue. Why in Tamriel was he hiding it?!
Her own wolf responded to the invisible pull, her energy rubbing along his in an affectionate, sensual caress that had him rumbling out a low groan. This could have been hers. They both could have been. The thought was sorely tempting and his chuckle rumbled through his chest.
"You, little wolf, are far sneakier than I could ever be," She commented and he laughed fully then, hugging her tight. It made her wonder if Vilkas knew. Naaah. Farkas stood with her in his arms and she yelped, clinging to his neck. "W-what are you doing?!"
"Taking you home, little sister," He replied and she balked. "Enough. You are still a Companion, still one of us, even if you don't want to take the pack. You are and always will be my sister, regardless of what everyone else thinks."
His words had her tearing up all over again and he snagged her pack and cloak from the floor near the bed, making sure nothing was left behind. And with the grumpy woman sulking in his arms, he brought her back to Jorrvaskr.
A/n: So what do you all think? Should I include a little scene between the twins and Claret? Should I just have a little thing between the boys themselves? Both? Does that sort of thing intrest you at all? x3 And how do you feel about sneaky Farkas? I love the twins sooooo much and they were a lot of fun to write. I see Vilkas being the quick thinker, the problem solver, and generally the more likely to take charge of a situation and able to handle just about anything that you throw at him with grace. That is, until you toss emotions into the mix. He seems easy to anger and rile up when it comes to the Dragonborn and a bit of a prude. Farkas on the other hand is laid back, cool as a cucumber, and happy to go with whatever happens. He seems very put together as far as emotions go and doesn't seem the type to stress over anything. Except spiders. xD I have this little head canon that he lets Vilkas lead the way because he is too lazy and is happy to just keep Vilkas grounded. ^u^