A.N: Hello readers. Apologies for this being late, just a small hitch but it's all sorted now. Thanks for reviews etc. as always.

Enjoy!

Chapter 21: Permission

Farkas' room was dimly lit when Vilkas pushed the door open. Candles flickered and sputtered at the breeze as he stepped inside. It wasn't a good sign, usually Farkas had candles and lanterns everywhere. Not a fan of the dark. A half nibbled sweetroll sat on his bedside table, his tankard of mead all but untouched.

Vilkas shook his head, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. His twin's eyes tracked him as he made his way to a chair that sat opposite the bed. He settled into it, arms folded, watching his reclined brother on his bed.

Farkas shifted uneasily, sitting up to look at his sibling.

"Were you not enjoying the celebrations?" Vilkas asked after a moment, eager to get the conversation over and done with as soon as possible.

"...just...sorting out a few scrapes I picked up in the barrow."

Vilkas let his eyes flick over his brother's broader, taller form. True, there was a scratch on his face and a small wound on his arm. Nothing above the ordinary wear and tear for a Companion.

"Doesn't look like they need much tending to me. I'm surprised you even noticed them."

Farkas shrugged.

"Small things can do more than you think, sometimes."

Vilkas pursed his lips at the comment, knowing what his brother was really referring to. He attempted to gloss over it;

"So, are you going to come back up?"

The larger Nord remained silent, his pale eyes flicking towards the door for a moment, looking at it as if it was the cause of all his woes.

"No..." Vilkas murmured, leaning back into his chair "I thought not. So what's bothering you?" As if he didn't know.

Farkas didn't say anything for a while. His lips drew into a thin line as fingers plucked at rough bedsheets, eyes occasionally flashing over to his sibling. He opened his mouth briefly, taking in a breath of air as if he were preparing to say something. Then those lips resumed their thin line.

Vilkas frowned. His brother was never particularly talkative, even at the best of times, but he always had something to say to him. And more recently, to Nibenor. Usually, anyway. The fact that the bigger man wasn't saying anything to either of them was a bad sign. Why he didn't want to speak with Nibenor, considering they had been fine up until the initiation, he couldn't say.

But he was more concerned that he wasn't speaking to his own twin. Wasn't willing to voice those few important thoughts that he had. That could only be caused by one of two things. Either Farkas was angry at him, or he felt that if he told his brother, Vilkas would think badly of him or angry at him. Either way.

Vilkas knew what it was of course. He knew what his brother wanted to tell him but couldn't find the courage to. Even if he didn't want to believe Athis, the Dunmer had a point. And both brothers had to face up to it.

The smaller twin sighed. It was looking more and more like he was going to have to do the legwork here. Get Farkas to say something he himself didn't particularly want to hear.

"This is about the elf, Nibenor, then. Isn't it?"

Farkas glanced at the door, then back to his brother before nodding slowly. Fingers still plucked at the bedsheets.

Vilkas grumbled to himself lowly. The response wasn't the one he was hoping for. He'd rather his twin just say it, get it over with so that they could do what they needed to and then move on. He didn't want to sit here slowly teasing information out of him like a steak out of a wolf's jaws. But at least they were on the right track.

"I..." Farkas started, before pausing again.

Vilkas waited quietly, biting at the inside of his lip, trying to exude patience whilst pushing away thoughts of beating the words out of him. In the nicest way possible.

"I don't..." he managed, before sighing heavily, running a hand over his face.

"You don't...what?"

"I don't want you to...hate me."

"If you don't tell me what it is, I can't know whether I will or not."

"I know." Farkas stated. Vilkas scoffed.

"You can never know, only suspect," he responded, leaning forwards in his chair, hands clasped in front of him, "Farkas. You're my brother. I doubt there's much you can do to make me hate you. Make me angry, maybe, but not hate you."

Farkas snorted.

"Yeah well, you get angry at everything."

Vilkas smirked back at his twin in response, feeling tensions easing ever so slightly. He hefted himself up from his chair, moving over to the bed to sit beside his brother, letting a hand drop onto a broad shoulder. The other man glanced up to him, meeting the same pale hue of his own eyes before looking away again. He swallowed thickly.

"I want..."

Vilkas' hand tightened involuntarily.

"I want the elf."

Farkas' words were so quiet that he wasn't sure whether his brother had heard them. Especially when no reply came. He bowed his head, fingers clenching and unclenching as he awaited Vilkas' response. He wished he hadn't said it now. He'd thought he'd get some sense of relief after admitting it. But his brother's unknown judgement was still weighing him down. He cocked his head, glancing up through the strands of his dark hair to read his brother's expression.

Vilkas' lips were pursed, his eyes distant as he stared at the far wall. He was obviously mulling it over, the words having been heard. He wondered if he would've heard them if the wolf was gone, like he wanted.

He bit his own lip, wondering what his brother really thought his crush. He hadn't punched him or stormed out though, so that was good.

A few more minutes stretched out before the smaller brother responded.

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"I want you to say what you feel about it."

"I don't know. It'll...take some getting used to," Vilkas murmured, looking at Farkas now. His hand squeezed down on his shoulder. "But...I'm not angry, Farkas. Or disgusted and I don't hate you. I don't understand it, but I don't hate you for it."

Farkas looked up at his brother hopefully.

"...You don't?"

"I told you, there's probably not much you can do to make me hate you. I don't agree or understand, but it's your choice, your life. You follow whatever feels right by you and I'll accept it."

Farkas blinked at the words, his brother's grudging acceptance.

"You're not angry? At all?"

Vilkas shrugged.

"What would I be angry about? As you long as you don't give me any details of what you get up to, you can do what you like."

Farkas let a smile grow onto his face, his head lifting as he looked at his twin.

"Thanks, brother."

He received a punch on his shoulder in response.

"Aye well, you just go and get on with whatever you and Nibenor decide you want to do. Just stop moping."

"Wasn't moping."

"You were. Like a teenager."

Farkas growled before standing slowly, stretching. He slapped his brother on the shoulder as he did. Vilkas stood beside him.

"You'd better get a move on, by the way. The elf looks like someone's stolen his sweetroll."

"Huh?"

"He's sitting in a corner on his own. I imagine he knew what was up, so you might want to go and reassure him, or whatever."

"And you're sure you're ok with this?"

Vilkas shrugged.

"As long as you're happy, I'll cope. And if anyone else has a problem with it or something to say about it, they'll have me to deal with. I won't have my kin mocked."

"Thanks."

The smaller twin nodded before striding out the room. Farkas guessed he wanted a drink and he chased after him, catching up quickly. He wouldn't mind having a drink with the others.

"I better warn you though," Vilkas began as they made their way down the corridor "Athis is going to have a hell of time on this one. You've just proved the snarky little bastard right. He might well have been taking bets while we've been down here."

Farkas shrugged, unconcerned. Athis wasn't the type to cause a problem over that sort of thing. The betting, however...

"Wonder if anyone's made a bet on how long it's going to take him to get my fist in his face?"

Vilkas chuckled lightly in response as they made their way back upstairs. The mead hall seemed to have fallen quieter, low murmurs of conversation humming. Until Farkas' head peeked up above the level of the stairs.

Shouts of welcome met him, the others encouraging him to join them in drinking to Nibenor's health. He smiled lightly, though not before shooting a warning glare to Athis, who was openly staring at him. The Dunmer wasn't quite the elf whose attention he wanted on him right now.

He scanned the room quickly, finding his target curled up in a chair that nearly enveloped him. Decision made, he grabbed a couple of tankards, filling them with mead before making his way over to the Bosmer.

The Wood elf looked up to him as he approached, glancing between the tankard being offered and the larger man before nodding taking it silently. The other tankard still sat, almost untouched, on the side table. He took a few sips of the new mug, watching Farkas as he sat down in a chair next to him.

Nibenor sipped quietly at the fresh mug of mead that had been offered, keeping his eyes on Farkas as he sat down next to him. He and Vilkas had obviously been talking and he could bet what the subject had been.

They sat in silence for a moment, Farkas making himself comfortable. Nibenor swallowed quietly. He'd rather avoid the situation completely. It wasn't the kind of thing he was used to dealing with. In all his ninety years, he'd never been in this situation and he didn't know what to do with himself. The waiting only served to make him uncomfortable, nervous.

He cleared his throat before tentatively trying to make conversation.

"So...wounds all attended to?"

Farkas sniffed.

"Ahh, they were just scrapes. Nothing to worry about. Armour needs more work than I do."

Nibenor smiled faintly, remembering the snapped leather straps.

"How's your leg holding up?" Farkas asked quietly. He wouldn't quite meet his eyes as he spoke and Nibenor swallowed.

"...It's...holding me up. Just."

Farkas smiled, almost sympathetically.

"Well, now you can rely on us to help you limp everywhere until it heals."

Nibenor glared.

"I do not limp."

"...yeah, and I don't like mead." Farkas countered.

The Dragonborn flushed before noticing the amusement on Farkas' face. He managed to catch his gaze, noting the mirth in those pale blue eyes and moments later he found himself smiling back. There was something about the Nord that was irresistible like that.

"So...," Farkas continued "since you're a Companion now, are you going to come and join the drinking? It's all about you, after all."

"...I suppose I could manage a drink. Or two."

Farkas grinned more widely.

"Or two? I've yet to see you finish one!"

"I am perfectly capable of holding my mead, thank you very much."

"Pfft. I could drink you under the table with no problem."

Nibenor laughed more earnestly now. How he didn't know, because the tension was still gnawing at his chest. But Farkas always had that effect on him. Capable of making him relax, against all odds.

"Ah well I obviously haven't told you about my drinking contest with a man named Sam Guvenne."

"Oh?"

"... I can't remember all the details, even now...there was something about a goat...or maybe a hagraven...or maybe both."

Farkas lifted an eyebrow at him.

"Really?"

"Well the priestess of Dibella wasn't happy after Sam and I defiled her temple."

The Nord snorted.

"You've never defiled anything in your life."

"Oh I think you'll find I've defiled quite a few things in my lifetime," Nibenor replied cockily, watching Farkas' expression carefully as he let his voice drop to a huskier tone, his words flowing free before he had chance to think about them "...I could show you how, if you like."

Farkas stilled, staring at him. He blinked once, twice, staying silent.

Nibenor stared back, aware of what he'd just said, feeling his face beginning to burn in response. It wasn't like him to be so brazen and despite the fact that he reckoned Farkas already knew. His blatant flirting took him off guard. In fact, judging by Farkas' lack of response, it had caught them both off guard.

That silence again. That tense awkwardness and Nibenor swallowed.

And then Farkas smiled. Relief flooded through him.

"I'd like that." Farkas eventually murmured, glancing at him before taking a swig of his mead. Surprisingly coy. Or shy. Nibenor couldn't tell, though he doubted that Farkas knew the meaning of the word.

"...so...that's a yes?"

Farkas glanced at him again, nodded, smiled and looked away.

"...and your brother?"

"Won't be a problem. Says as long as we don't tell him the details, he doesn't care. So long as you don't hurt me, or something, anyway."

"...he doesn't care?"

"...well, he doesn't mind. So long as I'm happy."

"Wonders never cease." Nibenor replied quietly.

"He's not that bad."

"I know."

"He likes you in his own way. Or at least, he's getting there."

"Well that's comforting."

Farkas smiled back softly.

"We have his...blessing, I guess. That's all I wanted."

Nibenor nodded in response, understanding. Despite the feeling of closeness between all the members of the Companions, he guessed that blood was still thicker than water, after all.

"...so...are we going to take this somewhere else?" Nibenor asked tentatively, shuffling closer to the other man.

"We are..." Farkas murmured back, leaning in teasingly. "After we've drunk you under the table." He finished, standing up.

He hooked an arm underneath Nibenor's pulling the elf along gently to the other side of the room.

Nibenor smiled, shaking his head at the Nord's eagerness to get him drunk. But then...he couldn't deny that it'd be nice to celebrate his new rank as a Companion. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Athis smirking, the Dunmer holding his hand out expectantly to Torvar who dumped a pile of coin into the grey palm.

Farkas growled quietly at the sight, though he said nothing, merely manoeuvring Nib into a chair.

Sat with the rest of the group, he smiled nervously, Farkas at his shoulder. To everyone's surprise, it was Vilkas who stood first, raising his tankard for a toast.

"To Nibenor, our brother."

Right. That's that sorted, next chapter should be up on monday. There are probably only 2, maybe 3 chapters left to go now, depending on which way I decide to take it. But I think I've settled on the longer route. So yeah, don't worry, the fun bits aren't far off :)