Wow, ten chapters have already flown by. I just want to thank youguys for your support, it means a lot. We still have a long way to go together. If youhaven't taken the time to read my profile, youmay want to do so. With that aside, let's divein!

Farkas never really enjoyed thinking things through, unlike his brother. Vilkas and Vignar would sit for hours and discuss things like books, or history. Farkas knew they inherent value of those things, especially to the members of the Companions, but he never took much of an interest in them.

Also unlike his older brother, Farkas took things at face value. Vilkas had a tendency to look for hidden meanings in everything, but Farkas didn't really see the point. He saw things as they were, and they usually didn't end up being much different.

Usually.

Odd things were beginning to happen around Jorrvaskr. Aela had been acting very strangely, and she was being very secretive about it. Almost a week ago, she had begun to set up barricades outside of Jorrvaskr. When Farkas asked her what she was doing, she simply shrugged him off and continued to work.

Three days after that, the Stormcloak army had laid siege to Whiterun. They put Vignar on the throne. Farkas thought that Earlund, or even Kodlak, would've been a better choice, but he didnt share his opinion. Vilkas said it was a good thing that Vignar was the new jarl, so Farkas just went along with it.

He couldn't figure out how Aela knew the Stormcloaks were coming. He didn't ask anyone, but he was pretty sure it was because someone had warned her. Either that, or she had been out hunting and had seen them marching to Whiterun. Farkas seriously doubted that.

The call of the beast-blood was something he struggled to ignore. He hadn't wanted it. He was angry with his ancestors for cursing him with it, but there was nothing to be done. Kodlak was doing everything he could to find a way to get rid of it. Aela and Skjor didn't mind it as much; they loved to hunt and Farkas often saw that they enjoyed the feral rush that came from the change.

Farkas enjoyed feeling powerful, but was there a warrior out there that didn't? He didn't enjoy the feeling of nearly losing control of himself. He dreaded the thought of ever hurting one of his friends, or worse, his brother. He, Vilkas, and Kodlak spent their time thinking of a way around it. Well, Vilkas and Kodlak did. Farkas mainly spent his time performing petty jobs or doing battle with the Silver Hand. It had been a while since any of the Companions had done anything interesting. He trusted that Vilkas and Kodlak would tell him whatever they learned, if they learned anything at all.

Yesterday, Farkas had taken a letter from a courier that was addressed to Aela. He knew that she was asleep; she and Skjor had been hunting late last night. He set it aside and grabbed his greatsword from the rack on the wall. In his spare time, Farkas liked to practice.

"Good morning," he said to Athis and Torvar as he stepped out into the crisp air. Torvar was drinking, as usual, and Athis was carefully cleaning a steel sword. "Do either of you feel like practicing?"

"Just give me a moment," Athis said, continuing to clean his sword. He wiped it down one final time and stood up, giving it a few good swings. It made a whistling sound as it cut through the air; that was one of Farkas' favorite sounds. Athis looked up at him. "Ready?" They descended the back steps into the practice yard.

"First one on the ground buys the winner a box of Argonian wine," Farkas said, taking the large sword from his back and brandishing it.

"A whole box?" Athis complained, taking a defensive stance.

"Yeah, a box," Farkas reiterated. Athis swung overhead and Farkas blocked it, dodging to the side. He swung horizontally and Athis met his blow. Athis cut sharply and Farkas jumped back, a smile on his face. He loved to spar. He loved to fight. He loved getting his blood going.

"I definitely won't lose, then!" Athis laughed. Torvar cheered from his seat as Farkas shoulder-checked Athis and sent him flying backward. He followed it up with a vertical strike, swinging his sword in a wide arc over his head. There was a sharp clang as Athis raised his blade just in time.

"Farkas!"

Farkas heard his name called from where Torvar was sitting. He looked over to see Aela, and Athis took the opportunity to kick the inside of his knee, knocking him to the ground. Farkas groaned as both Athis and Torvar laughed.

"You owe me that Bloodwine!" Athis said, sheathing his sword and reaching down to pull Farkas up.

"That wasn't fair," Farkas said, brushing himself off and putting his own sword away.

"Yeah, right. You're just angry because I bested you."

"In your dreams." Farkas left it at that and went up the steps. Aela was waiting for him with a slip of paper in her hand. She held it up and waved it in front of his face. He noticed that it was the letter he had gotten from the courier, earlier that morning.

"When did this get here?" she asked. There was urgency in her voice.

"Not even an hour ago. I didn't want to wake you."

Aela made a face. "Well, you should've, ice-brain. This is very important." She opened up the letter and scanned it quickly. She turned a suspicious eye over to Farkas. "Did you read this?"

"No."

"Are you sure?" Aela raised an eyebrow. "The seal on it was broken."

"I didn't read it. I wouldn't lie about that." Aela narrowed her eyes at Farkas, trying to detect a hint of dishonesty, but she couldn't find anything. Farkas was always blatantly honest, and his small efforts at kindness were often overlooked. He didn't hold it against Aela, however; she had always been of a harsher nature than most women he'd met.

She was silent as she unfolded the note and scanned it quickly. Torvar and Athis nodded to Farkas as they went back into Jorrvaskr. The sun had just risen over the horizon, and Farkas himself had forgotten to get something to eat.

He woke up with bloodlust this morning. As usual, he had felt unrested. Vilkas said it was because of the beast-blood. Farkas knew that to be true.

"What does it say?" Farkas asked, interrupting the silence. Aela's wild eyes shot to him, then back to the note. She folded it up and stuck it back into a pouch on her belt.

"I'm expecting a visitor," Aela snapped, turning away from Farkas and moving towards the door. He followed her.

"A visitor? You invited someone here?" Farkas asked, following her inside. Everyone had gathered around the great table; the room was abuzz with groggy conversation and the sounds of a morning meal. Farkas could see Athis and Njada arguing; they always had some sort of disagreement. They would be fighting soon.

"Yes. I want Kodlak to meet her," Aela said, peering over to the door. "Ah, there she is. Just as she said."

As Njada tackled Athis with a barrage of unmentionable words flying in all directions. Farkas couldn't help but chuckle. The fighting amongst the whelps was always something he liked to see.

He looked over to the door, where Aela had gone, and decided to investigate this stranger for himself. As he approached what he now saw was a woman, instead of a man, he recognized her immediately.

Her eyes had the same iridescent yellow glow that they had when he first saw her outside of the farm, months ago. Her hair had grown, slightly; he remembered it being just to her shoulders, now it was past them and nearly to her chest. She was wearing fitted Skyforge steel, which Earlund had no doubt made for her. He wondered why she deserved the honor of having armor from the Skyforge.

Her thin face and blank expression were the same, but there was something slightly different. Perhaps it was the slight flush to her cheeks, or the hint of fatigue in her eyes. Something was different. The more Farkas inspected her, the more he noticed it. An amulet of Talos hung around her neck.

He didn't feel the need to pull her apart, or see through her, as he had on the day they had met. He didn't recall her name. He did recall feeling suspicious around her; all of the suspicion was gone, now. In its place was curiosity.

"I remember you," Farkas said, interrupting Aela mid-sentence. She looked back at him with a growl. The woman looked at him with her steady gaze, but Farkas didn't feel quite as uncomfortable as he probably should have. "You were going to Whiterun on the day we took down that giant."

The woman opened her mouth to respond, but Aela interrupted. "Yes, Farkas, we remember that. Why don't you go tell Kodlak that our guest has arrived? He should be downstairs, talking to your brother."

Farkas wanted to growl at Aela; he was the superior wolf. Kodlak may have been alpha, but Farkas was closer to that than Aela was. By blood-right, he should've been the one giving orders. He didn't want to raise the strange woman's suspicions, so he swallowed his growl and disappeared down the stairs. Kodlak and Vilkas were downstairs inside the Harbinger's quarters, speaking in hushed voices.

"Harbinger, Aela wanted me to tell you that her guest has arrived to speak with you," Farkas said. Vilkas looked at Kodlak with a surprised expression.

"Aela invited someone here?" he said. Vilkas was very intelligent, but Farkas thought that his temper usually got the best of him. "An outsider?"

"I spoke with Aela before she did so, Vilkas. Do not be concerned," Kodlak said. He turned to Farkas. "Thank you, Farkas. Tell Aela that I will be glad to speak with her guest."

Farkas turned to do just that, but it was too late. The woman was already standing there. Farkas now noticed that she had a long blade sheathed at her side, and two scars on her milky-colored face. She had noticeable Nordic features, but those high cheekbones seemed to be more of an Imperial characteristic.

She caught him off guard, but he stepped aside, allowing her an unbroken line of sight to Kodlak. Farkas wanted to see this; he didn't know what to expect from her, and he really didn't know what to expect from Vilkas.

"Welcome, child. I'm glad that you could come. Aela has told me many things about you," Kodlak said, a genuine smile crossing his face. That was strange. Farkas hadn't seen a genuine smile on Kodlak's face in a long time. The old Harbinger looked to Vilkas. "Allow the lady to have your seat, Vilkas. She must be tired from her journey."

Journey? Farkas thought. Where could she have come from? It must've been far away. The woman looked as if she hadn't slept in days.

"Don't get up," she said, stepping forward and resting her hand on the pommel of the blade hanging at her side. Her voice was so placid and even. It was unlike anything that Farkas had ever heard. It almost sounded as if… She was making a conscious effort to control her speech. "I'll stand."

Vilkas' eyes flashed to Farkas and back to the woman as he uncomfortably settled deeper into his chair, like he was trying to show her that it was his. Farkas recalled that defensive feeling that the woman brought to those around her, but he didn't feel it now. He knew that Vilkas felt cornered by her. That's what she had invoked before, Farkas remembered feeling it himself, but something about her had changed since the last time he had seen her.

"Farkas," Kodlak said, causing him to snap out of his thoughts for a moment. The woman looked at him, he looked at Kodlak.

"Yes?"

"This isn't the time, son. You should go see if Aela and Skjor are still going out tonight. Perhaps you can convince them otherwise."

Farkas may not have been the smartest man in Skyrim, but he knew well enough when Kodlak was telling him to leave. Despite the fact that he thought it was unfair that Vilkas got to stay while Farkas had to leave, he nodded in agreement and shut Kodlak's doors behind him as he left. Instead of going and making the futile effort to convince Skjor or Aela to ignore the call of the beast-blood, he instead went to his room.

Just who was she? Who was she? Farkas knew that he didn't trust her, that was definite. He might've been curious about her, but he knew better than to trust her. Being in such close quarters with her was almost like… Being in a room full of dead draugr. All the times that he had done battle with the living dead, there had always been a quiet chill in the air after their souls had departed for the last time. That's what being near her felt like.

He remembered the way that her hollow eyes had bothered his dreams for nights on end. His sleep was never restful, and thinking of their meeting at the farm didn't help one bit. He remembered asking Aela about her, but Aela was always very quiet about the things she didn't want to talk much about. And with Aela acting especially secretive in the past few weeks, Farkas figured something was going on that she didn't want to share with everyone else. And now she'd brought that woman into their mead hall?

Farkas suddenly remembered the mysterious woman's amulet hanging around her neck. Talos… The worship of Talos was outlawed by the Empire at the end of the Great War. Those who worshipped him often did it in secret, unless they were part of the Stormcloak rebellion. Farkas finally put two and two together. That woman was a Stormcloak. That's why Aela knew to bar the way to Jorrvaskr before the battle in Whiterun; the woman must've told her to. And Aela brought her back to… Gods, Farkas didn't know. He did know that having her with the Companions could send the wrong message, though.

We're supposed to be neutral, he thought to himself. If we look like we're showing sympathies for the Stormcloaks, that could seriously damage our reputation. Or worse, our honor.

"Farkas! Come here!"

By the Gods, he was only gone for a moment before Vilkas called his name. He stood up from his perch on his bed and left his room. The woman was still standing in the same place when he returned to Kodlak's quarters. Vilkas still looked as uncomfortable as he had looked before.

"Farkas, this is Sif," Kodlak said, gesturing to the woman. Farkas almost chuckled to himself. Whenever he had heard of someone being given that name, it was usually meant for girls with golden hair, just like the popular Nordic children's tale. The Sif that stood in front of him had hair as dark as the night itself. Was her name supposed to be some kind of joke?

"She had promised to help us, if we will train her in two-handed combat and archery," Kodlak said. Before Farkas could interrupt him, he continued. "Perhaps her skill in the arts of stealth could aid us, as our skills can aid her."

"The Companions are warriors, not assassins," Vilkas said, earning a sharp look from Sif. He seemed to be looking at everything in the room except for her.

"This may be true, but we cannot deny those with the fire in their hearts," Kodlak said, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them and nodding at Sif. Farkas guessed that he saw something in the woman that Vilkas didn't see. Farkas didn't much care. It was always entertaining to have new people around, and this woman was especially interesting to him. He suddenly wanted to see her in action.

"Are you not willing to test her mettle, Master? You're only going to accept her based on what Aela said?" Vilkas pleaded, distaste plain in his voice.

"I am no one's master, Vilkas. And I do plan on testing her mettle. In fact, we've been asked to take care of a troublesome giant not far from here. This is the perfect opportunity for you and Farkas to stretch your legs," Kodlak said. Vilkas stood up. "Sif will accompany you."

"But, Harbinger-"

"No protests, Vilkas," Kodlak stood up too, this time turning to Farkas. "The giant was spotted in Bleakwind Basin, just west of here. It may be alone, but be careful. The guards reported that it seemed to be rampaging about." He paused for a moment, reaching back and taking a shiny apple from the table. "If you hurry back, you won't miss supper. Good luck."

Kodlak left the three of them standing together. Farkas exchanged glances with his twin before Vilkas addressed Sif. Farkas could sense how uncomfortable his brother was in her presence.

"I'm going to grab my gear. You and Farkas should wait upstairs," he said, looking at Farkas one more time before disappearing down the hall. Sif followed Farkas upstairs without a word, and in a matter of moments, Vilkas joined them and they were off. They set down the stairs and crossed through the market, towards the gate. Once they were outside of the city, Vilkas decided to speak.

"Have you ever fought a giant before?" he asked Sif, raising an eyebrow. He kept his arms crossed; he was sulking, Farkas saw. Vilkas always sulked when things didn't go the way he planned for them to.

"Yes," Sif's voice was steady. She looked right back at Vilkas and raised an eyebrow. "Have you?"

Farkas chuckled to himself as his twin's face turned red.

"Of course I have," he grumbled angrily. The corner of Sif's mouth twitched into a slight, mocking smile. The three of them continued down the path and turned westward when the time came.

"If you don't fight with a two-handed weapon, how do you fight a giant?" Vilkas countered. Sif looked away. "Where are you from, anyway? How did you know Aela?"

"You have a lot of questions," she said quietly, once again resting her hand on the pommel of her blade. "I don't know Aela very well. I need training and I didn't know where else to go. She offered to help if I would join you."

"So you're going to be a Companion?" Farkas finally chimed in, wanting to know more. Sif's eyes trained on his.

"Not yet. I have something to take care of, first."

"Like fighting a civil war?" Vilkas said, with a smug tone in his voice. Sif looked back at him as they continued walking. "I see your amulet. Only the Stormcloaks wear those." She didn't respond.

A shadow passed over them all, and a distant, metallic roar was heard from overhead. Ysmir's beard, what was that? Farkas looked up, searching for the source of the sound. It wasn't long before his keen eyes found it.

"Is that-"

"A dragon," Sif finished his statement for him. The thing turned back and roared once again. As it got closer, Farkas could see the sun glittering from its bronze scales. Its wingspan must've been the size of Jorrvaskr itself. Farkas had never seen anything like it.

"A dragon!" Vilkas said, taking his sword from his back. Farkas followed suit and brandished his. "I've only heard rumors!"

Farkas had never seen such a thing in his life. As he and his brother were standing back to back, Sif took her sword and stood with her arms at her sides, pointing her pale face into the sky. Farkas heard the dragon speak; he heard it in his bones.

"Dovahkiin! Zuu bahlokus! Rax wah ruus!" the dragon said, hovering above them and spewing fire into the sky with a deafening sound. Before Farkas could react, Sif responded to the dragon with her own placid voice.

"Ful nii los," she said, more to herself than to the dragon. The brothers watched as she took her sword in her hands and ran towards the dragon's shadow.

"Did you hear what that dragon said?" Vilkas yelled over the noise from above. "It said 'dovahkiin'. That means Dragonborn!"

Dragonborn? Farkas suddenly didn't care; all he saw that an actual dragon was getting ready to land, and Sif was going to be fighting it alone.

"Never mind that, we have to help her!" Farkas said, tightening his hands around the handle of his sword and running after her with a fierce battle cry. He heard his brother following him, but he was too focused to stop. He was going to bring that dragon down, and he would do it single-handedly, if he had to. The dragon landed and Farkas picked up speed, but came to a halt when Sif turned to them.

"Stay back!" she said, turning away from them again and pointing her face to the sky. "Strun!"

Both Farkas and Vilkas felt the ground nearly move beneath their feet as a powerful surge of energy left the woman's mouth and flew into the sky.

"What was that?!" Farkas yelled to his brother. For the first time in his life, Farkas knew that Vilkas didn't have a proper answer.

The sound of thunder rumbled overhead as everything turned black. Vilkas and Farkas both saw swirling clouds gather, and the rampaging giant coming over the western hills. The dragon took wing again as Sif attempted a swing at it, but it only flew for mere seconds before it was hit by a violent surge of lightening.

"Watch the strikes, they will come from every direction," Sif called to them. All three of them had come together as they waited for the dragon to land. They saw the giant coming over the hill, towards them. It had seen them, and it had definitely heard the commotion.

"It's getting ready to land! Let's go!" Vilkas said, running forward as the dragon swooped downward. He took a violent swing at it and managed to skim the underside, leaving a long, shallow cut in the lighter scales of its stomach. Farkas managed to push his brother aside just as the dragon sent a blast of fire in their direction.

He looked to his right and saw Sif standing on the hillock, with a gleaming sword in her hand. Lighting struck all around her, hitting the dragon as it flew closer to her. Somehow, she had gotten its attention. Farkas and Vilkas both started towards the hillock, but Sif had already gotten the dragon to land.

"She's going to take it down by herself?" Vilkas yelled over the commotion. Farkas looked to his left, where the giant was approaching, and looked to his right, where Sif did battle with the dragon.

"Kodlak would want us to help," Farkas replied, tightening his grip on his sword. He watched as Sif avoided the dragon's snapping jaws and drove her sword into the top of its head, to the hilt. Thunder rumbled and lighting struck at the brothers' feet, causing them to jump.

"You're right, Farkas," Vilkas admitted. "But she already took down that dragon. Now, let's take down the giant."

"Wait!" Farkas snapped, as his brother was turning away. The twins watched the dragon let out a dying breath, saying something to Sif that they could not hear. Farkas wondered if it was more of that dragon language. Could she understand that strange tongue?

The dragon's skin appeared to be on fire, for a moment, before it started to flake away, revealing bones yellowed with age. Farkas didn't have to be a necromancer to see that the dragon had obviously been resurrected. As the skin turned to ash in the wind, there was some kind of essence that leaked out of it, going straight to Sif.

"By the gods, what is that?" Farkas asked his brother, pointing to the glowing aura that seemed to be rushing into her. Her eyes were closed and her palms were out, as if she was soaking it all in.

When she opened her eyes, Farkas could see that they had changed, even from his great distance.

"There will be plenty of time to wonder about that later. Right now, we have a giant to kill! Look left!" Vilkas said, rushing to the left. Farkas knew that his brother was right, but he couldn't take his eyes off of Sif. What had she done to that dragon? What did it say to her, after she buried her sword in its skull?

Never mind that, she'll catch up to us, Farkas said, turning to follow his brother. They both surrounded the lone giant as it stamped its feet and swung its arms about. Kodlak was right; it really had gone on a rampage. Giants were dangerous enough when they were sane.

Vilkas managed to time a strike perfectly; the giant's right hand was severed at the wrist by his sword. The beast let out a cry of anguish and gripped the stump, still thrashing about. Farkas took the opportunity to take a stab at its left leg, but it missed. The giant was whirling around to face Vilkas, leaving its back exposed to anything Farkas could muster. Naturally, he began to slice at the back of its legs. He was trying to divert its attention from Vilkas.

It worked. The giant swung around as soon as it felt Farkas' strikes, and the momentum of its swinging motion caused one of its arms to knock Farkas off his feet. He landed a few feet away and slid. He could feel the wind knocked out of him as soon as he hit the ground.

A hand was offered to him. He took it, and Sif hauled him up from his position on the grass. She didn't look at him, she just took her sword in her hand and readied herself. The giant let out a loud roar of frustration and prepared to come towards them.

"Vilkas, move," Sif said in a calm tone. She hadn't yelled, but Farkas felt like she had… Once again, he could hear her words resonate deeply in his bones. She looked to Farkas, who felt almost paralyzed. "Get back." He did as she said. Something in her tone was unquestionable.

"Yol toor shul!"

A burst of fire came from her mouth and engulfed the giant in a matter of seconds. It all happened so fast, Farkas wasn't exactly sure what was going on until he saw the giant on its back, still, and burnt to a bloody crisp. He went over the scene again in his head; did that woman just breathe fire?

Vilkas had sheathed his great sword and was kneeling next to the dead giant, sawing at its toe with a short dagger. Sif sheathed her own blade and looked back at Farkas, who was still staring at the giant with his mouth agape.

"Are you alright?" Sif asked. There was no hint of authority in her tone, now. It was simply quiet and even. Farkas put his sword away and scratched his head.

"What was that?" he asked her, crossing his arms. He saw that Vilkas had finished cutting off the toe; he placed it in his bag and stood up, coming over to join them.

"There is no place for magic users among the Companions," Vilkas said with a scornful look. "Are you mad? How could you just run into battle without aid, or protection? Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Farkas looked between them as Sif said nothing. He thought he saw her face color… Or was that just the reflection of the sky on her pale skin?

"That wasn't magic," she replied, a slight smile forming on her lips.

"I think I know magic when I see it," Vilkas argued. "Shooting fire? Summoning thunderstorms? That sounds like a bit of destruction and conjuration to me."

Farkas knew what his brother was doing. He was testing her. Vilkas was trying to see if he could push her into revealing something that he wanted to know.

Farkas remembered what Vilkas had said when he first saw the dragon swoop down over them; he had said that the dragon referred to her as 'dovahkiin'. Dragonborn. Everyone in Skyrim, nearly everyone in Tamriel knew the stories of the Dragonborn. Tiber Septim himself was bloody Dragonborn. And those words she had been using… She spoke the dragon language, but she didn't look like one of those monks from the top of the mountain. Farkas knew that only those monks knew the dragon language, and he was sure that the only was someone could learn it was by training with them. That was how that rebel Ulfric Stormcloak had killed the High King.

But the Dragonborn had a natural mastery of the dragon language. The stories said that all the Dragonborn had to do was look at a word, and they would know the meaning and how to use it.

"That wasn't magic," she repeated, closing her eyes and opening them again. "That was the Thu'um."

Vilkas was silent for a moment, but Farkas saw a fierce sense of approval in his brother's eyes. The natural defense against Sif was beginning to wear off. Farkas looked down at his feet. For some reason, he didn't want his brother to be comfortable with her… But why?

"So, you're a Stormcloak, and you're the Dragonborn," Vilkas sneered, crossing his arms in front of him. "The Greybeards would be glad to know that you're following one of their disciples so closely."

Farkas knew that he was talking about Ulfric Stormcloak.

"Ulfric's cause is just, even if his methods aren't always true to it." As always, Sif's reply seemed to make more sense that anything Farkas had heard before. If she had the Voice, was she using it in her regular speech? Could she do that?

"Never mind the war," Vilkas said, looking east to Whiterun. The towers of Dragonsreach could be seen in the distance. "Let's get back to Kodlak. I'm sure he'll want to know what happened."

Farkas said nothing. The three of them turned eastward and started back to Jorrvaskr.