"I'm beginning to think I have a good influence on you."

Farkas smiled into his goblet, but took only a short glance at Adara as she took the seat on his right in the main hall. Besides them, the room was empty, and no wonder why: outside the sun just started to show its first rays.

"I wouldn't say that," he replied. "Sleeping late is still better than not sleeping at all."

Adara poured some fresh water, but stopped drinking with a light frown on her face. She noticed it a long time ago; Farkas almost never slept at night. At first, she thought it was because he truly liked so much to go to brothels and get drunk and spend his nights with whores, but lately she started to think that maybe there was something more behind it. Whatever it was, Adara gave up trying to find out, as whenever she asked, instead of answering honestly, Farkas always hid the truth behind jokes.

"You should eat something," he said after a long pause. "You'll need some energy today."

Last night Skjor filled her in with the details about her Trial. Apparently, her job was to collect some fragments of Wuuthrand, Ysgramor's old battleaxe. She had seen pieces of it hanging on the wall in Jorrvaskr—the Companions were trying to collect every bit of it for a very long time now. If they could believe this mysterious scholar, the fragments were somewhere in Dustman's Crain, another ancient Nordic tomb. After her first trip to one of these tombs, Adara wasn't so enthusiastic about visiting another one, but at least Farkas would be there with her.

"You have to lead the way though," he reminded her after she looked at him with too much relief. "I'll just be there to watch your back and to make sure you're worthy."

Later that night, when Adara was alone in her bed, she realized she wasn't afraid at all. She dozed off easily and slept well, but as the next day came, fear slowly but surely overcame her. What if she wouldn't be "worthy"? What would she do, where would she go?"

After she broke some fast, Adara visited Adrianne's shop in the outskirts of the city. As always, the blacksmith was glad to see her, and got even happier when Adara purchased a nice dagger from her. Only a couple days prior Aela told her she should always keep a dagger with herself, somewhere where no one can see. She took the advice and hid the small weapon in her boot.

Dustman's Crain wasn't far away from Whiterun, so they didn't need to leave early. Before midday, they were ready to leave after the guards opened the gates. Farkas had told her how hard it was to get used to it, as it used to be always open. Everything changed a lot lately.

Farkas had a beautiful, black mare. Her name was Allie, as he had told her with a proud grin earlier along with the story how they saved her from a burning barn six years ago, when Allie was only a foal.

Adara still had the horse that she got from Gerdur to reach Whiterun as fast as she could, months ago – she made a mental note to return it to her after the Trial.

They were already mounted, but still at the stables, when the question blurted out of Adara. "Can we go somewhere else first?"

Farkas shrugged. "Sure. We aren't in a hurry. Where do you want to go?"

"Helgen."

The question bothered her ever since she woke up that morning. If she wanted to be honest, she wanted to go back for weeks now, with the sole reason to see what's left of Helgen. But now, when she was so close to lose something again, this urge only became stronger.

A few seconds later Farkas was still speechless. He cleared his throat and shifted a little. "Sure, but… are you sure this is what you want to do?"

Adara nodded slowly. "Yeah, I'm sure."

They reached the wrecked gates of Helgen within only a couple of hours. The sun was still high up on the sky, but it was Sun's Dusk: the days were shorter at this time of the year, and they knew they had not much time left until nightfall. They swung off their horses and left them outside.

Farkas followed Adara into the destroyed village in silence. He made himself to promise to not to say anything, just giving her some time alone and letting her process everything she had to see. But he didn't really need to force himself to stay in silence; seeing what a dragon had done with the place was enough to make him speechless. Helgen wasn't just lying in ruins – there was simply not much left of it. Besides a few collapsed stone buildings, everything turned to ash.

They walked slowly between the debris, remnants of old houses, ash, and rotting corpses, and they could both swear they felt heat, still slowly emerging from where the dragon's fire burned the ground. Adara thought only her own mind was playing a game with her, but when she placed her palm on the stone of a collapsed wall, it wasn't cold. After months, even the rain and snow couldn't completely cool it down.

"It's still warm."

Farkas went closer and touched the wall too, but hissed and immediately jerked his arm away. "Warm?! It feels like it's still on fire."

But Adara didn't hear what he was saying. Her eyes still scanned the ruins of the collapsed buildings. "I can't believe this is all what remains."

She let out a long sigh and leaned her back against the warm stone. Farkas frowned, but pulled her away from it immediately. "You're going to burn yourself."

Adara swallowed hard, trying to get rid of the lump in her throat, but avoided his gaze.

"Why did you want to come here?" he asked quietly, his hands still on her upper arms.

She gave a small shrug. "I don't know."

His hands slid lower but he still kept her steady. "You can tell me."

"I don't know!" she repeated, louder, and her eyes finally found his. "It was my home once. Now I can't even tell for sure where our house was. The only place that felt like home doesn't exist anymore."

Farkas' hands slowly let go of her arms. He knew it was a problem for her from the start, but he hoped it changed a little since then. "I thought you started to feel yourself comfortable with us."

"I am," she said. "I really am, but what if I won't be good enough today? What if you have to send me away and—"

"Wait," he cut her off. "This is what you're afraid of?" He didn't wait for her answer. "We're not sending you away, okay? Yeah, you have to prove yourself first, but honestly, just look how far you've got within such a short time. If you aren't worthy to be a shield sister, then frankly I don't know who is."

She watched him without a word for a while, a tiny smile on her lips, grateful for his words. Farkas broke the silence. "I don't think I could let you go now, y'know," he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, leading her towards the gates. "You're seriously growing on me. And who would make those teas for me when I'm hungover if you weren't around anymore?"

Adara tutted and rolled her eyes, but his words made her chuckle, too. She leaned away from his embrace to take one last look at Helgen. "I guess it was a mistake to come here. I don't even know why I wanted to see it so much."

"Maybe you needed one last proof that there's no going back. I know it hurts to hear this but there's nothing left for you here anymore. Or to anyone, actually," he stopped there for a second, before he went on with his voice weaker. "You know, Kodlak always says to my brother and to me that we should get over our past or it will be the end of us. To me, because I can never forgive myself. To Vilkas, because he can never forgive others. And I'd say the same to you because you're still mourning over something you'll never get back."

Farkas' words hurt, but Adara had to accept that he was right. It's been more than twelve years when she left Helgen behind – it was time to move on. She won't get it back, just as she won't get her family back.

When they left the remains of the village, somehow, Adara felt relieved. They didn't talk much as they rode down along the White River, but the silence was comfortable. Not long after they rode past Whiterun, it started to get dark.

"We should set up our camp," Farkas said. "It's better not to travel at night, and I think we both need some sleep before we reach Dustman's Crain."

Adara agreed, though she wasn't sure at all she could sleep, and she knew Farkas will not. They settled down between a brook and a small, collapsed cave, ate a little, before Farkas volunteered to take the first watch. Adara didn't argue, but she had the feeling Farkas won't wake her up.

If she was or wasn't right about it, she didn't have the chance to find out. It was something else that woke her up.

The sound was low and deep and gave her goose bumps, but not from the good kind. Adara was still half asleep, her eyes closed, and she couldn't recognize the sound for a moment, nor deciding it was the reality or only a dream. The sleepiness blunted the noises, and even one second seemed like an eternity until she opened her eyes. It was a grunt, angry and hungry, and she found herself under a snarling werewolf. The tiredness vanished and she became vigilant under a blink of an eye.

Yet she couldn't move, she couldn't even take a breath. She was lying there, frozen, and couldn't tear her gaze away from the beast's eyes, grey eyes, just like its fur. She wondered if Farkas was somewhere around, but didn't dare to look away. Adara felt the werewolf's hot breath on her face—it smelled like blood.

She knew there was no point of fighting. If she moved a little, it would tear her face down. If she didn't move… it'll still kill her, that's for sure. She desperately tried to think of something, anything, clinging on that last string of hope, before she heard another growl and the beast disappeared from above her.

Not exactly disappeared – the other werewolf pushed it away from her. This one was bigger and its fur black, as much as she could see under the moonlight. She was panting hard, realizing just now how close she was to death, but quickly got on her feet and picked her sword up from the ground. While the two beasts were still fighting, Adara looked around. Gerdur's horse was lying in the grass, its guts spilled out. Farkas was nowhere to be seen, but his horse was close, just a little down by the road. Where the hell was he? Her heart was racing and her legs still weak, but she looked back when she heard a louder, painful howl. It didn't look like the two werewolves wanted to give up their fight, and Adara had the feeling she was the prize.

Running away seemed a reasonable decision, but what if Farkas came back from wherever he went and finds himself between two werewolves? She hesitated, but decided that staying there would be a suicide mission. If she just looked around their camp, she would have realized Farkas' clothes and armour and his sword were all there, but she turned around to leave.

She couldn't get far away before she saw the grey werewolf, the one that almost attacked her scurried away with painful whimpers, bleeding heavily, and disappeared into the woods. The other, the black one limped to where the campfire burned earlier, and fell on the ground with a low grunt. Adara drew her sword again. It didn't seem like the beast could fight anymore, and it crossed her mind to end its misery quickly. She walked closer slowly and raised her sword, thinking about how easy it could be, but something stopped her.

She sheathed her sword and went to Allie to guide her back to the camp; not too close, as she was still too unnerved at the sight of the beast. Adara sat down at a rock and didn't look away from it, partly because she was afraid if she turned her back, it would attack her immediately.

It was still dark, but far away on the east she could see the first trace of dawn. Where the hell was Farkas?

Her hand fell on the grip of her sword when she saw the werewolf lifted its head from the ground. It looked at her for a moment before rested its head down again, but then again, it stood up on its shaking legs. Adara jumped to her feet too, but the werewolf didn't attack her.

She watched silently as the beast slowly transformed back. It was almost painful even to watch and hear how its bones turned back, sounding like every one of them were breaking. There was just white skin soon where the great black fur was, except the man's hair; it was the same, darkest shade. Farkas.

Adara's eyes widened when she recognized him. He lied on the ground with his face on the cool, wet grass; blood oozing from somewhere she couldn't see. She hurried closer, her legs still shaking as she crouched down and put her hands on his back and shoulder. His skin was warm under her touch.

"Farkas?" she called his name with a shaky whisper, but he didn't move. She repeated once and twice, louder, until he finally snapped his head up. He closed his eyes back as quickly as he opened them, like even the pale light of the dawn hurt them. A low grunt rumbled his chest before his head fell down again, before he rolled onto his back, slowly, clumsily. There were three long and deep scratches across his chest, bleeding.

After a few deep breaths, he tried to stand up; he almost fell back twice in the process before he was finally on his feet. It took long to fight himself into his pants, while Adara still watched him speechless.

Farkas gave her a lopsided, weak smile. "Why are you looking at me like this? You've already seen me naked."

She huffed angrily. It wasn't a great time for jokes. "Why haven't you told me you're a werewolf?"

Farkas sat back down to the ground with a painful growl and rested his back against a rock. He looked more exhausted than she had ever seen before. "It's a secret."

"It shouldn't be a secret!" she said angrily. "You're dangerous, you could've just killed me and—"

"Sweetheart, I just saved your life. Can't you be a little more grateful?"

"But you are—"

"A bloodthirsty beast, yeah, I know, I could kill my own brother, yeah, I know. I'm sorry I haven't told you, it isn't because of you. It's just a secret of the Circle," he said, his eyes barely open while he added, "And don't be afraid, because I wouldn't hurt you."

Adara let out an annoyed sigh. That wasn't true; he could hurt anyone in his beast form, why would she be an exception? She grabbed a small wooden bowl and walked to the little brook to fill it, before she went back to Farkas with it and a little piece of cloth to clear his wounds out. She kneeled down close to him and started to clean them, but they were still bleeding heavily.

"They're too deep, Farkas. Let me cast a healing spell on you."

He chuckled weakly. "Forget it."

"You're such an idiot," she huffed. "Would you rather bleed out instead of let me help you with magic?"

Farkas opened his eyes. "Yeah, well, what if you accidentally set me on fire or something?"

Adara sighed. "I'm practising magic since I'm a child. Do you really think I could mix two simple spells up?"

"You're a mage. I can't be sure." he said, but his smile encouraged her. She put the wet, bloody cloth down and placed her palms on his chest.

She lifted her gaze, and looked deep into his dark eyes. "I'm not going to burn you," she said quietly, before she added more jokingly, "If I ever do, it will be because you deserve it."

He smirked, his voice was weak. "I've never done anything bad in my whole life."

They both laughed at his statement. "Now let me concentrate."

Involuntarily, Adara took a deep breath before she slowly released it, and of course, it caught Farkas' attention. He frowned and grabbed one of her wrists. "Wait, why are you nervous?"

Adara laughed, before she cleared her throat. "I'm not nervous. Calm down, I'm not going to set you on fire… though I'm really tempted now."

He released her wrist and smiled at the fact she grew a sharp tongue lately, but didn't say it out loud. He was too tired, he felt more and more dizzy, and he felt he could pass out at any moment. His face was pale as he had already lost so much blood, so Adara stopped thinking and cast a healing spell on him.

Farkas held his breath back, like he was really afraid the white and yellow lights that emerged from her hands would burn him, but he quickly realized there was no reason for being scared. It felt warm yet refreshing, and as the bleeding stopped slowly, he let out a sigh of relief. The wounds started to close, but they were still a little scratched up when Adara stopped. She closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths in, feeling like she could fall like a sack of potatoes at any moment.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"Yeah," she said, but her voice was raspy. She cleared her throat and opened her eyes. "Healing spells are my weaknesses."

Farkas' jaw dropped. "Are you kidding me? Why haven't you told me?"

"Because you wouldn't let me try! And nothing bad happened, so calm down." she placed a loose strand of hair behind her ear, smudging blood over her cheek.

"It actually felt really good," he said quietly, like he still couldn't quite believe it. "Thank you."

She washed the remaining blood off his chest while he wiped it away from her cheeks with his thumb, but whilst Adara carefully avoided his gaze, Farkas couldn't look away from her face. She wiped the blood off her own hands after she finished, and only after that she looked up into his eyes. The sun finally came up and a gentle, cool wind blew against their skin, ruffling up their hair. Adara felt her heart beating strongly but steady, and Farkas could hear it clearly.

"I can try to cast another spell later," she said after long seconds of silence. "They aren't closed up completely yet."

Farkas didn't protest, but gave a short nod. "I can't leave like this. The transformations are really exhausting. I need to rest a little."

Adara nodded and stood up. "Aren't you hungry?"

"Like a wolf."

Dustman's Crain wasn't far from Whiterun and since they didn't count with the trip to Helgen, they didn't pack any food except a little bread and cheese. There was a forest to their right so Adara left Farkas there in the field, before she disappeared into the woods. She didn't go deep; she stayed by the edge of the forest, and returned not much later with two rabbits in her hands.

Adara stared at the rabbits on roasting stick above the fire after she washed her hands in the brook and sat down close to Farkas. His stomach gave a loud growl.

"I could eat that raw."

She chuckled, but watched Farkas now. Millions of questions flashed through her brain since she saw him transforming back, and as the time passed, more and more came to her mind.

Farkas smiled, and heaved a sigh. "Ask away. I can practically see you thinking about… everything."

Adara shifted, but didn't deny; she was too curious, so curious she couldn't even decide which question she should ask first. She opened and closed her mouth several times before she finally spoke up,

"Is this something between the Companions?"

Farkas shook his head. "Not really. Everyone in the Circle is a werewolf, but only the Circle. And the others don't know about it."

"Why?"

"It's the tradition," he shrugged. "Curse or blessing, depends on who you ask."

"And what is it for you?"

Farkas let out a small, pained chuckle. "Never anything good came up from me being a werewolf."

"Why did you become one, then?" Adara was afraid her questions became too personal, but then again, curiosity won.

Farkas shrugged again. "We were only kids, Vilkas and I. It seemed like a great idea and we didn't have to beg for it to much to Jergen."

"So this is why you can't sleep?"

"Yeah," he said. "I mean, I can sleep, but I'm always vigilant. Even the smallest noises wake me up. I have to be seriously exhausted to get some good sleep. Women and beer usually help with that. We gave up on the transformation, Kodlak, Vilkas and I. We thought it would be better, but some things are even harder since then. And we still don't have a choice on full moons."

Adara fell silent, and she didn't ask anything for a while. The way he talked about it was easy to tell how much he didn't like the beast part of himself, and it pained her to see this. Farkas was a good man. He didn't deserve this.

While Adara only ate a little, it seemed Farkas couldn't stop eating. "Do you want me to go back for another rabbit? An elk? A mammoth?"

Farkas laughed. "Nah, I'll be fine now. Transformations draw out everything from me."

"It sounded so painful," Adara said. "Don't your bones hurt?"

"Everything hurt, actually."

Adara swallowed hard, and decided she'd ask something more cheerful, something from the bright side, but she only made it worse.

"I've read a lot about werewolves."

"I thought so." he said with a smile before he took a sip from his waterskin.

Adara rolled her eyes before she went on, "Is it true you can only fall in love once?"

He looked away from her with a sigh. "It's true."

"I guess you haven't found the one yet."

He shook his head lightly. "No, and I hope I never will."

Adara frowned. From what she read, it seemed a nice, unique feeling and experience. "Why are you saying this?"

Farkas slowly turned his head back at her. "Just look around the Circle. Skjor and Aela? I'm sure you've noticed it." She had, of course. It was hard not to – the small glances, the slipped words. "Their story is the less tragic, if you ask me. This thing between them has going on more than ten years now. I think everyone knows, we just try to act like we don't."

Adara nodded, and as Farkas didn't go on, she broke the silence. "What about the others?"

"Kodlak's wife and son died in the Great War," he said shortly. "And there's my brother," he paused again for long moments. "We went to Solitude first time alone. We were fifteen or sixteen at the time. It was just one man we needed to put in place but back then we never went anywhere without each other. After we took care of the job we spent the night in one of the inns. We met that girl there and Vilkas fell in love with her instantly," he shook his head from side to side, a nostalgic smile on his lips. "He was the most annoying person in the world then, you know? All the way back from Solitude to Whiterun he couldn't stop talking about her."

Adara chuckled. It was hard to imagine now Vilkas was once talkative and passionate about something.

"He visited her as much as he could, but only in secret. His father already promised her to some local noble man in Solitude. They talked a lot about escaping from there. Sent letters to each other all the time. In her last one she told she was on her way to Whiterun, but weeks passed and she didn't arrive. We left to Solitude but she wasn't there. We found her in a bandit's cave. She was already dead."

Adara closed her eyes. No wonder why Vilkas was so bitter all the time.

"I've never seen my brother so angry before and even ever since then. He single-handedly killed all the bandits there, more than a dozen. He didn't need my help."

"So this is why I would rather not fall in love," he said after a little pause. "It's stronger with us than you. The good and the bad too. And if the person dies we love… I don't think there's anything that could fill that hole."

Adara wanted to say something nice and promising, but she couldn't think of anything that wouldn't sound empty. "You can't control that, Farkas. But I hope it will end better for you, if you do fall in love one day."

Farkas smiled. "Thank you."

Adara cast another healing spell on him soon and with that, his wounds finally closed. The scars remained there, but they weren't the only ones: there were so many of them across her chest and arms it would have been hard to count them all.

"I'm gonna blush if you keep staring at me like that."

Adara tutted but smiled when she looked up at him. "I don't think it would be so easy to make you shy."

Farkas extended his arms. "You could always try."

Adara turned around and rested her back against the rock too, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Farkas. "Maybe you should try to sleep a little."

He agreed, and as he was so exhausted, he knew he could. But there was one more thing he wanted to tell. "I think I owe you an explanation."

She looked at him with furrowed eyebrows. "About what?"

It was hard to start it, much harder than he thought it would be, but once he did, he couldn't stop the words. "I wasn't older than you when this boy came to Jorrvaskr. He was young, even younger than you. The others weren't hopeful about him, but I vouched for him. He had nothing. He grew up on a farm and his family was murdered by bandits. He wanted to become a Companion so he could protect the people of Skyrim from people like who murdered his family. He was ambitious, stubborn even. Kodlak said I should be careful with him, but I didn't see."

He stopped, and Adara knew something hard would come after this. She wanted to hear this story so much, but now it didn't feel right to pull it out of him. She took one of his hands between both of hers. "You don't have to tell me if you aren't ready."

Farkas looked down and ran his thumb along the back of her hand, before he lifted his head again. "He was like a younger brother to me. He learnt really fast, just like you, and most of the others started to see in him what I saw from the start. We offered him to join to the Circle and first he was truly happy about it, but when we mentioned to him that he needs to become a werewolf… something changed in him right then and there. He said no and he couldn't believe that… Monsters are leading a group that were trying to save the people of Skyrim, as he was saying. He thought we aren't any different."

"It took me two days to calm him down, but the entire Circle wanted to send him away. They were sure he'd spill our secret. But then again, I vouched for him."

"Have you heard of the Silver Hand?" Adara shook her head as a no, so Farkas went on. "It's an organization devoted to hunt us down. We are always in a fight with them."

"Did he join them?" she asked in horror, but Farkas shook his head.

"No. He led us right into their ambush. He made up a great story about a cave full of treasure and bandits and hostages. All of us went there that day and it's a miracle we all came out alive. Aela almost died from the cuts of the silver blade. There were many of them, and we slaughtered most of them. And I killed Heidmir by myself."

Her grip tightened around his hand. "Do you blame yourself?"

"Of course I do."

"It wasn't your fault!" she said, but she knew it meant nothing to him. Surely he had heard this from the others over a hundred times already. "I'm sorry you had to go through this," she said honestly. Farkas always seemed a carefree, happy man. She wouldn't think so may bad things had happened to him, and happening still.

Farkas stood up and walked to his bedroll, before he fell on it in the next second. His eyes were already closed when Adara heard his voice.

"I trust you Adara, I really do. I'm just scared I'll regret it again."

It was unnecessary to say he won't; Adara knew only time will prove that. One thing was sure: that day was a turning point in their relationship, and it hadn't ended yet.