Jorrvaskr was a squat building at the edge of the city, standing almost in the shadow of Dragonsreach. The thick wooden beams supporting its domed roof were eaten away by time and moisture, and despite its out of place appareance among the thatched roofs of the surrounding houses, it looked unobtrusive and forgotten. A perfect place to lay low. Freja was about to push open the heavy wooden door when the ringing of a blacksmith's hammer rang out further up the mountain. Curious, she followed the sound up a side path to find a forge, open to the air, the heat of the exposed red heart of the mountain burning her face. The ledge rose above the city, and the plains of the surrounding hold spread out in front of her. A great lump of a man with a heavy white braid running down his back was hammering a plate of steel, sparks flying with each mighty blow. He stopped to wipe sweat from his brow and noticed her standing at the head of the stairs. The molten metal hissed and spat as he plunged it into a trough of water and tossed his hammer aside with a clang.

"Something I can do for you?"

"You do repairs?"

He wiped his blackened hands on an equally blackened apron.

"Let's see the problem."

She knew her cuirass was beyond repair. The perpetual moisture of the wilderness had cracked and softened the leather, but she still had hope for her bracers. He examined the rusting buckles and splitting leather with an expert eye and surprisingly dexterous fingers, finally nodding and saying he could do it for fifty coin. He would need to forge all new metal pieces and patch the leather. She agreed and tossed the last of her coins onto the stone workbench along with her bracers. She couldn't afford to replace them; it would have to do for now. Hopefully this new line of work paid off. The blacksmith examined her curiously but held his tongue. His proximity to Jorrvaskr suggested he might know more about what awaited her, so she leaned back against the side of the forge, the heat of it making her back itch and sweat.

"You know much about the Companions?"

He laughed inscrutably before responding, "Aye. I do work for them."

She traced her fingers over the few pieces he had laid out, admiring the craftsmanship.

"Any advice?"

His eyebrows rose, and he straightened up to examine her more closely.

"You thinking to join?"

"Try," she shrugged.

He rubbed his beard then turned back to carefully pulling apart her bracers.

"You best know how to wield a blade."

Clearly a man of few words. She thanked him, glad to see her armor in good hands, and made her way back to the main doors of Jorrvaskr, shoving them open. A wall of smoke greeted her, burning her eyes and choking her. Inside lay a low hall with high wooden pillars lit by a wide fire pit in the center surrounded by tables laden with food. The smoke of the fire slowly wafted out a thin slit in the center of the roof. Her stomach rumbled agitatedly at the smell of roasting meat hanging in the air. The room fell silent, and several figures turned to examine her, their faces full of suspicion and curiosity.

"You there!" a harsh voice rang out, and a woman dressed in worn leathers with green war paint slashed across her face strode quickly toward her. "What's your business here?"

The leather of her armor was thick, but her legs were bare. It was a bold choice, the armor of one who welcomes risk. Freja wiped at the smoke-induced tears on her cheeks with her now bare sleeve.

"I want to join."

The woman examined her like a saber cat eyeing its prey before a vicious smile curled her lips.

"Follow me then, and let's see what Kodlak makes of you."

The woman called to a tall Nord in heavy metal armor, a thick sword on his back. He pulled himself up from the table with a grumble, and they escorted her to the end of the hall and down a pair of slick stone steps. At the bottom of the stairs, a door opened into a musty smelling cellar lined with fading banners of red embroidered with an intricate gold axe, the edges staining black from moisture. Side rooms were lined with cots, and voices floated faintly from within. A heavy hand landed on her shoulder, and she was steered to the back of the cellar to a large room lined with bookshelves. A older man, his shoulders covered by long white hair, was bent over a book, only half listening to the young Nord on the other side of the table who was leaning toward him, speaking intently. He looked startlingly like the man whose heavy paw still rested on her shoulder. She had tried to shrug him off, but his grip only tightened, and she regretted leaving her bracers for repair before she had walked into this place.

The older man, who she assumed to be Kodlak, raised a hand to silence the young man across from him as she entered with her strange retinue.

"A stranger? Few come to our hall." He greeted her warmly. "Welcome."

All eyes were fixed on her, and she was starting to feel uncomfortably like a deer surrounded by wolves.

"I wish to join," she stated after a brief nod of acknowledgement. There was no point bothering with pleasantries.

A small smile crinkled the corner of Kodlak's eyes.

"Do you now?"

He sat back to examine her, his gaze lingering on her worn armor and torn clothing, but the young Nord who had been sitting beside him cut in, a look of disgust on his face.

"Surely you can't be considering her."

She gazed coolly back at his skeptical glare but remained silent. As much as she longed to counter his insults, it wouldn't do her any good to get kicked out before she even had a chance. Observe, and wait. Thankfully, Kodlak ignored him.

"What's your name?"

"Freja."

She hoped he wouldn't press the issue. It wasn't uncommon to have no surname in Skyrim, but it still made her nervous. He seemed satisfied with her answer, but the young Nord leaned forward agitatedly.

"I've never even heard of her. What good will she be to us?"

"That remains to be seen, but there are always beds in Jorrvaskr for those with strength of spirit." Kodlak peered intently at Freja again before nodding and turning back to his book. "Take her to the yard and see what she can do."

The young Nord sighed and straightened up.

"Aye."

The story is going to follow the plot from the game at first, but it will start to deviate in the next few chapters. I replayed the Companion quests to prepare for writing this, and I have so many little Easter eggs I'm going to try to throw in!

*I changed the spelling of her name to be more Nord-like. Pronunciation remains the same (frey-ah)

Thanks for reading!