The Companions did their best to stay out of Skyrim's public affairs. They swore to be neutral, they swore not to take sides in any situation. However, when the news came to Whiterun that the Stormcloaks had taken Solitude and declared Skyrim's independence, Farkas couldn't suppress his curiosity. He became even more curious when he heard that Sif, the Dragonborn woman, had lead the army to victory and slaughtered Tullius's right hand Legate herself. He couldn't resist mentioning the fact to his brother one morning, as they broke bread together next to Jorrvaskr's ever-burning fire.
"Did you hear about the Stormcloaks?" Farkas asked, rather pointedly. His brother raised an eyebrow as he chewed throughtfully.
"All of Skyrim is talking about Solitude. I heard the news from Vignar the day before yesterday," Vilkas said, continuing to stare at his twin with interest. When Farkas didn't respond, Vilkas spoke again. "Why do you ask, brother?"
Farkas shrugged. "I thought it was interesting that the Dragonborn lead them to victory."
Vilkas didn't respond at first. Farkas wasn't terribly intuitive, but he knew when his brother was preparing to say something thoughtful. He could almost hear Vilkas organizing his response.
"She did say she was going to fight a battle before she left," Vilkas mumbled, shrugging. "Of course, it had something to do with the rebels. I'm not sure if there's any truth to the rumor of her leading the army. I'm sure that would be Ulfric Stormcloak's job.
"Do you think she'll be back soon?" Farkas asked, as soon as Vilkas was done speaking. Vilkas's eyes locked onto his twin's.
"I don't know, Farkas," Vilkas said in an even, clipped tone. Farkas's questions were starting to bother Vilkas; he could tell. Of the few times that Vilkas had reprimanded Farkas, they usually had to do with Farkas asking too many useless questions.
Farkas didn't think his question was useless. He wanted to know when the Dragonborn, when Sif, would be returning to Jorrvaskr.
"Ice-brain," Aela called as she came up from the rooms below. She was addressing Farkas; he didn't bother to turn around. "What's this about the Dragonborn?"
"We were just talking about the Stormcloak battle in Solitude," Vilkas answered before Farkas could, cutting him off right away.
Farkas didn't want to speak, anyway. He preferred to be alone with his thoughts when his brother was being obstinate; which seemed to be quite often as of late.
Farkas hadn't been able to focus on anything since Sif left Jorrvaskr last week. She had left in a hurry, like something was bothering her, but Farkas had no idea what that could've been. He wished he knew. He really hoped it hadn't been something that he had done. Even since she left, all he could really think about was what it would be like when she came back. Would she remember him? Would she still look the same?
He thought about the way she looked more often than he would've admitted to anyone but himself. He often thought of the scar through her lip; how it tugged the corner into what looked like a full smirk. He thought about how the corner of her eye was pulled slightly upward by her second facial scar, giving her right eye a more narrowed appearance than her left. It added to her unique expression, Farkas thought. He also thought of her hair, blacker than midnight, and her skin, paler than a full moon. He remembered her eyes to be a haunting yellow-golden color; they had been glowing after she had absorbed that dragon's soul.
He imagined what it would be like if he revealed his true form to her. He mused that she would probably shrug and turn in the other direction, as if nothing had changed about him at all. He imagined that not much frightened her. If she could slay a dragon so fearlessly and without help from anyone else, she could probably do anything Farkas could imagine. He often wondered if she was smarter than Vilkas and stronger than Kodlak.
She probably was. If those rumors about her were true, she definitely was.
Sitting by the fire with half a loaf of bread in his hand, Farkas suddenly felt a wave of anxiety wash over him. It was sudden, and potent; he couldn't find an explanation for it. He was so focused on the feeling, in fact, that he barely noticed the sound of Vilkas and Aela bantering back and forth. He didn't notice when the heavy door yawned open and slammed shut once more.
"Milk-drinker! You're back!" Aela exclaimed, shaking Farkas from his thoughts.
"Hardly a milk-drinker from what we've heard, Aela," Vilkas snapped, sinking into his chair and crossing his arms. "Commanding a rebel army."
Upon seeing Sif, and seeing that she hadn't changed, and seeing that her moonlit face was as refined and as pronounced as ever, and seeing that her inky hair was spilling around her shoulders and moving as if it was an independent living thing; upon seeing Sif, Farkas shot out of his chair. Aela and Vilkas both turned to him as he did so, noticing how abrupt and out of character the movement seemed to be for Farkas.
"Farkas has been asking after you relentlessly, Dragonborn," Vilkas growled, seeking to humble and embarrass his twin. It went unnoticed by Farkas.
Sif's yellow eyes came to rest on Farkas. He noticed that she was wearing brilliantly dark armor, complemented by white furs pinned around her shoulders. Did he notice specks of blood on her collar, or was it a trick of the firelight?
"Hello," Farkas said. He immediately thought himself foolish for opening his mouth… Hello? Was that the only thing he could muster? Everything was silent for what seemed like the longest moments of Farkas's life.
"Hello," Sif said politely, inclining her head in Farkas's direction. She kept her eyes on his. "Where is Kodlak? I must speak with him."
"This way. I'll show you," Vilkas stood and waved in the direction of the rooms. Sif nodded to Aela as she passed by, following Vilkas downstairs. Farkas exhaled sharply and looked to Aela.
Why did Vilkas always do that? He always had to jump in before Farkas got a chance to say anything. He barely even had a chance to look at Sif, and Vilkas had already intervened. Farkas felt the low rumble of a growl emitting from deep within his chest.
"Something on your mind?" Aela asked, once again snapping Farkas out of his thoughts. He looked to her, silencing his rumbling growl.
"Vilkas," Farkas snapped, more to himself than Aela. She raised an eyebrow.
"Vilkas?" she looked back towards the stairs. Farkas could almost see her putting two and two together. Aela was smart. She looked back at Farkas with an evident realization.
"Are you jealous, ice-brain?" she asked, putting her hands on her hips. "You're jealous of your brother? I can't believe that."
Farkas swallowed. He could feel his face flushing under Aela's accusatory gaze. She chuckled.
"Farkas, if you want Sif's attention, just talk to her. It's really no mystery!" Aela, said continuing to chuckle as she spoke. Farkas did his best to remain placid.
"I don't want her attention," he grumbled, lying both to Aela and himself. Speaking on the subject was making him crasser than he already was. Aela opened her mouth to say something, but shut it as soon as Vilkas came up the stairs, followed by Sif. Farkas silently prayed to the Divines that his face wasn't still flushed.
"Did you speak with Kodlak?" Aela asked Sif. Farkas cursed her, too.
"I did," Sif replied, her eyes shining in the firelight. "I am to help the Companions retrieve something from Dustman's Cairn. I have been to the crypt there once before." Her eyes fixed on Farkas. "I am to go with you."
Vilkas crossed his arms, the way he always did when he was expecting something to happen next, so he could say something smart about it. Though it hadn't bothered him in the past, Farkas suddenly hated that about his brother.
"Kodlak said you're going to be her Shield-Brother," Vilkas said, when Farkas didn't speak right away. "That means don't let her get chopped up into pieces. Look after each other down there."
Farkas let out a sudden chuckle. He did his best to keep his eyes focused on Sif. There was something about her that almost made him want to avert his eyes, but he couldn't tear them away.
"I don't think she needs anyone looking after her," Farkas said. He could see Aela crack a wide smile out of the corner of his eye. He thought he saw a slight smile appear on Sif's face as well, but her features remained undisturbed.
"Are you ready to go?" Farkas asked her directly, before he could think too hard about what he wanted to say and mess it up. He ran his thumb across the ring on his middle finger; Vilkas thought him a fool for never taking it off, but it was the only memory that Farkas still had of their supposed father, Jergen. It was a clunky, cheap, tarnished silver thing, but Farkas always kept it with him. To him, it was lucky, and it was one of the few possessions that he held dear.
Farkas was brought back to reality when Sif nodded slowly, her eyes never wavering from his. He could feel his face beginning to flush, but he turned away before he could think twice. "Good. Let's go."
They left Whiterun together and began their trek north, towards the foot of the mountains. Sif was quietly leading them to the entrance of the crypt. For the duration of their journey, Farkas wasn't sure if he should've spoken or not. Speaking cleverly was his twin's strength; for that, he cursed Vilkas once more. When they entered the tomb, Farkas decided to speak.
"Someone's been digging, and recently," he said, very matter-of-factly, as they came into the entrance room. Low fires were burning in the corners; the way that the firelight danced against Sif's cheekbones made him wish that he didn't speak. Being so large, he suddenly felt like a hulking beast as he stood next to the small woman.
He was hulking, and he was a beast, but he was better than that. He could be gentle, too. Skjor wasn't gentle. Vilkas wasn't, either.
"This wasn't here when I came through last," she said, kicking a fragment of a jar on the ground with her ebony boot. They heard a growl from the end of the hallway, and felt the chill that came with the presence of the draugr. Farkas watched her gracefully unsheathe her sword from its scabbard. She glaced at him before turning to head down the hallway. He took his greatsword from his back and followed after her.
When he came into the room, he saw what he had been waiting to see since the last week had passed.
She was floating between the draugr like a cloud of mist; she was expertly slicing and felling them one by one. He didn't even have time to step in before she swiftly beheaded the last one. When she looked back at him, a flush had broken out over her milky face, and he had forgotten why she had come to train with the Companions. But he was glad that she did.
"Why are you training with us?" he asked, voicing his thoughts, just as he always had done. "You fight well enough."
She sheathed her sword. Farkas noticed the fire in her eyes that had undoubtedly risen during battle. It complimented her well.
"I'm trained as a thief. I need training in the warrior's way. I'll need to be strong enough, and disciplined enough, to face Alduin," she said, looking down the hallway into the next room. Farkas put his sword on his back once more.
"You seem strong," he stated. He probably could've used a different word. Her strength was really the last thing on his mind. When he looked back up, she had left and continued on to the next room. When he jogged after her, he saw as she pulled a lever and was trapped behind a metal gate. He chuckled to himself. The whelps were always so eager, so forward… But Sif looked frustrated as Farkas approached the gate. Their eyes connected, and he looked away before his face flushed for the fifteenth bloody time that day.
"What have you gotten yourself into?" he said, his voice light. He looked around, spotting another alcove nearby. "Don't worry, I'll have you out in just a moment."
Just then, his heightened senses picked up the sounds of many steel boots coming from different directions. In just moments, he was surrounded by a group of warriors wearing silver armor. He felt a low growl emit from his chest; he should've known the Silver Hand would ambush him here. Kodlak had always warned him about the followers of Stendarr. He drew his sword from his back once more.
"What's going on?" he heard the music of Sif's soft voice behind him, with a hint of something more. Her Thu'um seemed to leak into her speech more often than the last time Farkas had seen her.
"Stay quiet," Farkas snapped back. He could feel the heat rising in his belly. The Change was nearly upon him.
"Who are they?" Sif whispered once more. "Let me out, Farkas."
He felt a bit lighter as she uttered his name under her breath, but he was quickly brought back to the present by the warriors closing in on him.
"It's time to die, dog!"
"We knew you'd be coming here," one sneered, with a smile on his face. "Your mistake, Companion."
"Which one is that?" he heard one of the Silver Hand women ask, raising her axe a little higher in the air. He knew they were afraid of him; Kodlak said that's why the Silver Hand wanted to kill him. Farkas could smell their fear. When the Change was coming, he fed off of the fear of his enemies.
"It doesn't matter," one of the male warriors snapped in response. His fear was almost palpable in the air between them. "If he wears that armor, he dies!"
"Killing you will make for an excellent story," the sneering one from before spoke again.
Farkas apologized to Sif in his mind. He hadn't planned on revealing himself so soon, but the fear was feeding his transformation.
"None of you will be alive to tell it," Farkas growled, feeling his fingers flex.
He threw his sword to the side as if it weighed nothing. The heat ignited a fire in his belly that rose up through his chest, giving him the feeling that he had been set aflame. Two sharp pangs in his legs caused his knees to bend, forcing him to hunch over. The heat rose through his sinewy arms and stopped at his fingertips. It came to a whirling crescendo as he flailed upwards, throwing his arms over his head and letting out a guttural roar as hair sprouted from every pore on his body. He felt his blood rushing, on fire, finally. The Change had overtaken him. He once more gave a bone-shaking roar; the Silver Hand took apprehensive steps backward.
As a beast, Farkas could see the blood running through the warriors' veins as if it were pumping across their skin. The smell was intoxicating; it flew into his nostrils, aggressively at first, but turned to gently tempt his snapping jaws. He let out another bone-shaking roar as he dove for the first Silver Hand warrior, right in front of him. He tasted salty sweetness as he tore into their flesh and drank their blood. The stings of their silver weapons did not seem to bother him. He dispatched them as easily as common rabbits.
As he felt the rage begin to subside, and he felt that his unnatural hunger was sated, he began to trot towards the alcove he barely remembered spotting before. As he entered the alcove, he felt the heat subside. The beast released him from its grasp as the hair seemed to fall away and skin once more appeared. He adjusted his clothing and his armor, pulling it back into place, before slamming the lever next to him and turning to trot back to where Sif was standing.
She looked unaffected. Her face was as placid as ever; just as Farkas had predicted, her composure was impossible to affect.
"So that's the big secret of the Companions?" she asked, raising an inky eyebrow. "You're all werewolves?"
Farkas shrugged after strapping his discarded sword onto his back.
"Not all of us," he replied. Sif's eyes bored into his.
"You, and your brother," she said. "And Aela. And Kodlak. Who else?"
"Skjor," Farkas replied without thinking. Even if she did know their big secret, he doubted that she would hold it against them. He had a feeling that it wasn't in her nature. She didn't respond.
"What's it like?" she finally asked after what seemed like forever. Farkas didn't have to think much to come up with a response.
"It hurts sometimes. I don't like it," he replied. "Aela and Skjor like it. The rest of us don't."
"Were you born with it?" she asked again, her eyes darting away at some distant noise, before returning to his.
"Yes. It's a curse on the Companions."
"So you were born into the Companions?"
"Me and Vilkas were, in a way, yes."
She was silent for another long moment. She seemed to be searching for something to say.
"Is there a cure for it?" she asked, her expression changing into something Farkas couldn't quite read.
"Kodlak's searching for one."
She didn't ask anything after that. They continued on; she seemed to lead him through the dungeon like it was nothing. They worked together to mow down draugr and Silver Hand as they went, and Farkas was continually impressed by her strength and skill in battle. He had no idea why she wanted to train with them. If anything, she could probably best all of them in combat with little effort. They retrieved the fragments and made it back to Jorrvaskr in record time.
Farkas wondered what Sif was thinking of. She hadn't said anything.
They immediately went to Kodlak, where he was resting in his quarters, eating a plate of bread, cheese, and apples. Farkas had expected him to be outside to initiate Sif, just like he had for all the others, but Kodlak was giving off a strange and uncertain energy. As of late, he always seemed so tired. Farkas imagined that, like he and Vilkas, ignoring the call of the beastblood was becoming more difficult as the days passed. Farkas didn't understand much, but he knew that they had to find a cure. Quickly.
"You've returned," Kodlak said, clearing his throat and standing up from his seat. "And with the fragment. Excellent work, you two."
"It took you long enough," Farkas heard his brother's voice as he and Aela approached. Skjor came from his room. The all seemed to surround Sif, whose expression was unchanged.
"Brothers and Sisters of the Circle, we gather here today to welcome a new soul into our mortal fold," Kodlak began, lifting a hand to gesture toward Sif. "This woman has challenged and endured, and has shown her valor. Who will speak for her?"
Farkas felt his heart thump in his chest. "I stand witness to her courage." He kept his eyes on the back of her head, wanting to see into it, into her thoughts. He suddenly wanted to know what she thought of him; did she think him foolish?
"Would you raise your shield in her defense?" Kodlak asked, watching Farkas carefully. He swallowed.
"I would stand at her back, so the world might never overtake us."
"And would you raise your sword in her honor?" Kodlak continued. His eyes were boring into Farkas, now.
"It stands ready to meet the blood of her foes," Farkas growled. As he spoke each word, he felt the truth rushing through him and invigorating his blood.
"Would you raise a mug in her honor?"
Farkas heard Vilkas swallow and clear his throat behind him. "I would lead a song of triumph, as our mead hall reveled in her stories."
"Then the judgement of this Circle is complete," Kodlak said, nodding solemnly and placing a hand on Sif's armored shoulder. "Your heart beats with fury and courage that have united the Companions since the days of distant green summers. Let it beat with ours, that the mountains may echo and our enemies may tremble at the call."
"It shall be so," everyone echoed, bringing the ceremony to a close. Farkas watched Kodlak approach Sif and say something to her in hushed tones. He heard someone approach him but didn't bother to turn around; he was focused on Sif, in that moment.
"We're going to bring her into the Circle," he heard Skjor say from behind him. He immediately turned on his heel to face Skjor, a deep growl rumbled from his chest.
"You're going to turn her?!" Farkas snapped, clenching his fists at his sides. The beastblood was something that ran strong through the Circle's veins, and it was something that Kodlak saught to eradicate from their lives forever. The idea of forcing the pains, the sleepless nights, the insatiable cravings, onto Sif… Farkas would not allow such a thing to be thrust upon her. He let out another sharp growl. "You have no right!"
Skjor chuckled, placing his hands on his hips. He narrowed his eyes at Farkas.
"That decision is hers to make, when we offer it to her," Skjor said, a slight aggressiveness underlying his words. "Vilkas spoke of her prowess in battle, and Kodlak has given his approval."
Farkas stood, clenching and unclenching his fists, resisting every urge to embrace the beastblood and tear Skjor to shreds right there. Skjor seemed to sense this and scoffed, brushing past Farkas. Farkas turned on his heel once more to watch Skjor approach Sif, saying something to her. Farkas saw her nod. Skjor must've asked her to meet them at the Underforge.
Farkas felt his blood boil. He didn't want them to turn her. If she was bound in blood with anyone… Farkas wanted to be bound to her. Before he could think, he found himself standing tall before her.
"Did Skjor ask you to meet with him at the Underforge?" he asked, his eyes boring into hers with passion. He saw her head incline in the slightest, indicating a small nod. Her eyes were narrow, but curious, at Farkas's sudden burst of emotion.
"In a moment, yes. I am going to speak to Kodlak first," she said quietly, contrasting his aggressive straightforwardness.
"I'll meet you with Skjor," Farkas asked, calming down a bit and subduing his rage. She nodded once more. He felt imposing. A part of him liked feeling that way, but a bigger part of him didn't want to impose upon Sif.
However, he somehow knew that was impossible. If anything, she could've easily imposed upon him.
As he turned on his heel to stride toward the door, he heard his twin's voice, calling to him from their shared hallway.
"Farkas, what's going on? Why do I sense… Why are you and Skjor at odds?" Vilkas immediately asked as he approached Farkas. Farkas hesitated for a moment. He liked to know things that Vilkas didn't know, but if Farkas didn't answer honestly, his older brother would find out one way or another. For what seemed like the twentieth time, Farkas cursed his twin's intelligence.
"He's taking Sif to the Underforge. He's going to offer her the beastblood."
Vilkas didn't speak for a moment. Farkas could feel his emotion; between the two of them, Vilkas had always been the one with the quick temper.
"I must speak with Kodlak," Vilkas growled, looking over Farkas's shoulder towards Kodlak's quarters. "I will meet you at the Underforge."
"Sif's already gone to speak-"
"I will meet you at the Underforge," Vilkas repeated in a deathly tone, cutting Farkas off before he could finish.
Minutes later, Farkas and Vilkas were standing close at the entrance to the Circle's secret sanctuary. Skjor sauntered up, not long after. Vilkas and Skjor made banal conversation; Farkas knew that Vilkas was trying to keep his temper in check and replace it with a sense of diplomacy. Skjor was, after all, older than the twins. That made him the superior wolf.
Farkas attempted for a moment to tune into their conversation, but he immediately gave up when he saw that Sif was approaching them. Even in the night, her skin glowed against the darkness. She almost looked as if she was shining. She seemed to have exchanged her heavy suit of ebony armor for a plain set of clothes and boots. Farkas didn't think that it took away from her radience in the slightest. As she approached, her eyes connected with Farkas's first, before moving on to acknowledge Skjor.
"Both of you are here?" Sif asked, looking between the twins. Vilkas spoke before Farkas could even think of a response.
"All members of the Circle have their say on what happens in this sanctuary," Vilkas said, giving Skjor an irritated look. Skjor seemed to shrug before looking back to Sif.
"Are you ready?" he asked. Vilkas shoved the door of the Underforge open with his shoulder, making a large grinding sound. Farkas didn't know why Vilkas was going along with Skjor's plan when he had seemed so angry about it before, but something told him to trust his older brother. Sif must've nodded while Farkas was watching Vilkas, because they proceeded inside. Aela, in her Changed form, was waiting for them. Farkas once again felt the rage rise within him; Skjor and Aela had planned this on their own. Aela's blood was already waiting in the stone fountain.
"You know what we are, new blood," Skjor said, standing tall next to the fountain. "You've proven your courage and your prowess in battle to us multiple times."
Sif said nothing. Farkas watched her; Skjor continued.
"We know you have come to train with us to become stronger, as a warrior. Tonight we have gathered here to invite you to share in our store of strength. We invite you to join the Circle and share the beastblood."
Farkas felt his heart beating as he looked to Vilkas, who still said nothing. What in Oblivion was he planning? Why was he waiting so long to intervene? Farkas could feel himself getting antsy. He would not allow them to turn Sif against her will.
"I accept."
Farkas's head whipped around so quickly that he thought for a moment it would come loose. How could she accept? Didn't she have an idea of what it was like? Didn't she know the pain that they suffered through, every moment of their lives?
"Wait, Sif, did Kodlak-"
"Very well. Come forward, and drink from the stone fountain," Skjor said, cutting Farkas off. Farkas looked to Vilkas in desperation, but his brother was stone-faced. He wasn't going to say anything. The rage boiling in Farkas's belly suddenly erupted. He whirled around and lunged forward to grab Sif by the shoulder and stop her, but it was too late. She had already stepped up and dipped her hand in the fountain, bringing Aela's black blood to her lips.
What happened next was something that none of them were prepared for.
Sif's sudden scream tore through the air as she backed away from the fountain, throwing her hands skyward and clutching at the sides of her head. She dropped to her knees with a thud and screamed once again. Her eyes shot open as blood began to pour from her nostrils, vibrant and red. Her eyes darted from corner to corner of the sanctuary, but Farkas knew that she wasn't seeing anything. She clutched at the Amulet of Talos around her neck, clawing at it desperately. She once more let out a metallic scream, her eyes slamming shut and her body wriggling backward into the dirt. Farkas didn't look to Vilkas before he rushed forward and threw himself down on his knees, grabbing her upper arms and hoisting her upward. As he did so, her eyes rolled back into her head, and blood once more gushed from her nose.
"What is it?!" Farkas growled at her. She didn't respond, she only gave short, gasping breaths, followed by another terrible scream. Her body writhed in his hands as she twisted forward. "Sif!"
Farkas looked up desperately, his eyes seeing Vilkas first. Aela, once more in her human form, had rushed forward to aid Farkas in holding Sif upright. Skjor backed away slowly with a look of shock, his eyes never leaving her face.
"Get Kodlak!" Farkas growled at Vilkas. "Now!"
Both Skjor and Vilkas left for Jorrvaskr.
"What is happening to her?!" Aela yelled, struggling to hold her still as she contorted and screaming in pain. When Farkas didn't answer right away, Aela screamed again. "You've spent the most time with her out of us, ice-brain, what is happening to her!"
Farkas didn't know. But he could almost feel it… Something very real and very palpable, almost sticky, very loud and booming, inside of her head. He didn't know how he could feel it, but…
"We need to take her to a wizard that knows enchantments," Kodlak suddenly said, as Sif let out another strangled cry. Each one she let out made Farkas want to tighten his hold on her.
"Why?" Farkas asked, his eyes never leaving her pallid face. All the glory of her moonstone skin succumbed to a sickly pale sheen that had overtaken her.
"The amulet that she wears is enchanted, to protect her from an evil spirit that plagues her soul. When you were attempting to forge a pact with Hircine, the evil spirit must've broken the enchantment," Kodlak said as he and Vilkas kneeled down, next to Aela. Skjor was nowhere to be seen. Farkas hated him, suddenly.
As Sif thrashed about and cried out, her eyes opened, and Farkas saw how bloodshot and tortured they were. He knew her as a woman that didn't acknowledge fear, but there was fear in her eyes just then. He wanted to erase it. Sliding an arm beneath her knees and clutching her shoulders with the other, he lifted her as he stood up. Kodlak and the twins struggled to carry her up the steps to Dragonsreach, while Aela ran ahead for Vignar to summon his court wizard. Vilkas and Farkas took her immediately inside, to the wizard's quarters, and laid her out on the table. Farkas struggled to pin her wrists down as Aela took ahold of her thrashing feet. She screamed once more; this time, louder and more metallic that ever before. Things rattled in their shelves, the ground seemed to shake, the wizard took an apprehensive step backward and clutched his ears in surprise.
The only sound Farkas had heard that was anything like the one Sif just made was a dragon's roar.
Farkas watched as Farengar waved a hand over her body, emitting a blue light, and the room was suddenly deafeningly quiet. Farkas looked up at him.
"What did you do?" he asked the wizard, cutting Vilkas off before he could speak.
"I cast Calm," he replied with a sigh of relief. "That'll only hold her back for a moment, but it'll let me think."
"She needs a calming enchantment, a very strong calming enchantment, like she had before," Kodlak interjected. Farkas looked down at Sif; her eyes were closed, blood was crusted around her nostrils and her upper lip, and her breathing was shallow. Suddenly, she spoke.
"The mages at Winterhold, the College," she wheezed, coughing slightly. "Savos Aren… Take me to Savos."
"Who is Savos?" Farkas snapped at the wizard, looking up at him.
"Savos Aren is the Arch-Mage of Winterhold College. One of the instructors there, Sergius Terranius, is an expert on enchanting."
"Can't you enchant something for her?" Kodlak continued. The wizard shook his head.
"I can enchant something, but it won't be nearly as strong as the enchantment that Sergius can do," the wizard stopped, looking around. His eyes met Farkas's. "One of you will have to take her to the College of Winterhold as fast as possible."
"That's two days on horseback," Aela spoke suddenly, worry evident in her voice. "Will your enchantment last that long?"
The wizard sighed. "I can't make any guarantee that it'll last more than an hour. If you leave tonight, you should be there within-"
"I'll take her," Farkas said, suddenly. He looked down to see that her eyes were closed once more. He looked back up, first at the wizard, then to Kodlak. "I'll take her tonight and have her there by tomorrow."
"Can you even ride a horse?" Vilkas scoffed from the other side of the room, his arms crossed. Farkas gave a firm nod.
"Very well," Kodlak said. "Farkas will take Sif to the College. First, we need to enchant something."
"Yes," the wizard spoke once more. "Does she have a spare article of clothing, or any piece of jewelry?" Kodlak reached into his pocket for Sif's Amulet of Talos, but he brought out only ash.
"I had her amulet, from before, but…"
"Yes, after an enchantment is broken, the enchanted object is destroyed. Is there anything else of hers that we could use?" the wizard asked. Sif once again began to twist beneath Farkas's hands. She put her fingers to her temples and clenched her teeth. Her feet began to kick, prompting Aela to press them harder into the table.
The wizard's voice became more desparate.
"Does anyone have anything?" he asked in a curt tone. Farkas suddenly had a thought. He ran his thumb over Jergen's ring before slipping it off of his finger.
"Take this," Farkas growled, tossing it to the wizard with one hand. "Fix it, quickly. She hasn't got much time before the spirit comes back."
Farkas knew it would be destroyed. Gods, he would destroy it himself for Sif's sake. Vilkas noticed that he had tossed his most prized possession at the wizard, and shot a look of disbelief in Farkas's direction. He didn't notice. The wizard disappeared into his quarters.
Just then, Sif screamed. Her fingernails dug into the sides of her head as blood trickled down. Farkas closed his eyes and tried his hardest to focus on blocking out the ear-piercing roar coming from Sif's very soul. His heart broke for her.
"Fix it now, wizard!" Farkas yelled. Sif let out another scream, causing Aela to let go of her legs to cover her own ears. Sif's legs thrashed about, knocking things off the table. The wizard rushed out of his quarters with something in his hands, demanding that Farkas hold her back. He was probably going to tie it around her neck; the ring was much too large for her finger. Farkas placed his hands on her shoulders and pushed her down, into the table. Her eyes shot open and connected with his.
He felt something.
He felt something inside his head, clawing at the insides of his skull, wrapping around his brain and squeezing it tightly. He felt something drilling into his ears, piercing his eardrums, slithering its way into the deepest, most sensitive crevasses of his head. He saw his father, Jergen. He saw a young Vilkas trailing behind him as they ran through the fields, begging him to slow down. He heard himself laughing, a child's jovial cackle, and he turned to look behind him at Vilkas's lagging form. Where Vilkas was before, was a dark mass, blacker than the very pits of Oblivion.
He heard a voice, just then. Soft at first, a whisper, becoming louder… Talking, no, shouting… No, booming in his head. It felt like a thousand needles pricking the insides of his eyes, it felt-
"Farkas!"
He snapped back to reality when Kodlak shouted in his ear. He had placed a hand on Farkas's shoulder and had shaken him back and forth. Farkas looked at Sif, now placid once more. He saw his ring on a thick cord around her neck.
"You have to ride quickly, boy," Kodlak said, pressing a small satchel of gold into Farkas's palm. "Take this, in case you need it. You and Sif need to make haste."
Farkas looked back at her as she was starting to sit up and swing her legs over the side of the table. He didn't feel the need to offer a hand; she seemed to be moving just fine on her own. Slowly, but just fine. He looked back at Kodlak and nodded.
"Right," he said, before turning to Sif. "Take me to your horse. We're going to the College of Winterhold."
Something in her eyes urged him to protect her, to keep her safe from harm. She nodded slightly and lead him out of Dragonsreach, out of Whiterun, where Shadowmere was waiting for them. He tossed her onto the horse's back as if she were a straw doll, before climbing up behind her and taking the reins. She was quiet.
As he urged Shadowmere on through the howling wind and the relentless snow, as he kept pushing Shadowmere on to run faster through the night and eventual dawn, Sif's calmness began to slip. She began to cry out once more as they were galloping through Eastmarch, just as dawn was breaking over the mountains. Shadowmere didn't falter; somehow that horse was able to keep a constant pace as they got closer and closer to the College. Farkas had her bundled in a set of furs, and kept her near his body so that she could feel the heat of his beastblood. As her screams of torment became louder, Shadowmere seemed to run faster.
Farkas realized that he didn't care about anything else but Sif. Not the Companions, not Kodlak, not even Vilkas mattered to him. He swore his loyalty to her, he swore his blade to her, in his head… He would live as she lived, he would die when she died. He would give everything to keep her safe, and he would always be near, until she didn't want him to be. He wouldn't ask questions, unless he needed answers. He wouldn't answer the call of the beastblood, he wouldn't Change. He suddenly felt so fiercely protective of her that he took a silent oath to kill anyone that wronged her.
That night, Farkas made a promise that he had been yearning to make since he first met Sif. And Farkas always kept his promises.