Sorry for the delay.
I got busier than I thought I would over the holidays, so I didn't get it done in time.
But here it finally is!

I'll try and get the next one done till next Friday (jan. 3) as to get back on my schedule.
But with new-year coming up, well, I have plans.
So it might be a bit delayed as well.

That said.
Enjoy

...your beloved…

If it wasn't nightmares waking me, it was a full bladder-nature's most reliable alarm clock.

Surprising how fast one adjusts to waking up in an empty bed-felt a bit colder than usual, but I wasn't about to complain-the extra legroom offered freedom I'd gladly get used to once again.

No need to climb over sleeping limbs today either… not that there ever was. Ysolda was usually the one to ¨ring the morning bell¨ with soft lips against my cheek or nagging words against my ears. I never did know which she'd choose, it always did come at random.

It was cold, almost freezing when I pulled off the covers and climbed out of the bed. I'd set a fire but, as usual, I was heading for Jorrvaskr. And since Ysolda was still in Rorikstead, there was no need to warm the place for the day.

The privy was barely full before I decided to move for my morning ¨rituals¨, something Ysolda reminded me to do more so than me: hair, shave, release wrinkles on my clothing, and so on. The usual grooming. But I never did care much for my clothes, as long as they were comfortable and easy to move in I'd rarely care how worn or dirty they looked. Simple pants and my old tunic will do-always did-and they fit well beneath the wolf-fursuit. I always left the armor plating on my mannequin in Jorrvask.

A wall of winter-white light shone against my eyes as I opened our door to leave. I hadn't realized it was this light already since it had been a while since I got to sleep. The morning air was fresh and cool as I inhaled. I liked the feeling of winter, it bore little scents-other than ¨clean and white¨-and it always cleared one's mind. There were no clouds, but it must have been snowing all night, judging by the waist deep snow carpeting roofs and ground alike. Good thing our roof hung out from the building, or it wouldn't have been easy to get the door open.

A streak of yellow splashed in the morning-snow as I emptied my pot beside our door-nothing a few kicks of snow wouldn't cover-before I left the pot inside our door and reached for my Companion cape and gloves.

"Guess I'll be late," I mumbled as I buttoned the cape around my shoulders before I grabbed the shovel and dug into the snow, shovel after shovel. It was light, but I'd have to dig through a few paces to reach the street. "And here I thought I'd be early."

The narrow paths of trampled snow made the already small streets between the old wooden stock houses seem even smaller as I walked. I could hear voices and chatter from inside the buildings, the people of Whiterun had clearly started their days as well. People were already shoveling snow off their porch and lifted their heads at me as I walked past.

The marketplace was crowded. People in fur coats and thick clothing everywhere, waving their gloved hands at the food stands for attention as they shouted over each other. Fresh food was scarce in winter and people would fight over frozen meat and rockhard oat bread, only good to eat when soaked in soup. Other than potatoes, vegetables were only found in Dragonsreach-cooked and served on the Jarl's rich table. Jarl Baalgruf did care for his people, more than some jarls, but as long as his people weren't starving he saw no need to share the content of his storage. Most people didn't complain, after all, he is the Jarl. That title came with more than respect alone, it came with trust, and everyone knew he'd step up if it came to it.

"Hail Companion…"

"Hail Companion…"

"Hail Companion."

I had gotten used to the greetings from townsfolk and guards alike. Ever since I became a member of the Circle, it was hard to walk outside without everyone greeting me with politeness. Some of us tried to spend most of our time in Jorrvaskr in order to avoid just that, but I didn't mind it. In fact, I liked it. It made me feel important.

People always showed respect towards nobles and highborns, but that was mostly because they had to. Us Companions, we weren't born with it. We had earned our respect. And inherited role of birth mattered little to us. We respected strength and strength alone. So unlike the nobles, the respect and smiles we were given always felt genuine.

"On your way to Jorrvaskr?" Anoriath interrupted as I walked by his stall. His large fur hood lay heavy on his head and hung down over his shoulders, covering his pointy elf-ears and auburn hair. His breath left frost in his beard as he spoke. Furs hung from the overhead of his stand and the counter had all kinds of cut meat on top of it. I always reacted to how little frozen meat smells compared to fresh ones.

When I still lived in Rorikstead, so long ago, he was our only competition when it came to selling furs and meat from our hunting. My father often spoke ill of him-the way competitors usually do-but after moving to Whiterun, I found him to be quite the nice guy.

"Yeah." As if I was headed anywhere else.

"Thought so. I put some meat aside for Tilma, but she hasn't come by yet." He reached for a rough spun sack behind his stall and pulled it up and placed it on a clear area of the counter. It looked heavy. "Thought you might take it instead, since you're heading there."

"Sure, but… I don't have any coin with me."

"Don't mind that. You can pay me later."

"Alright," I answered as I accepted the sack and pulled it over my shoulder. "What do we owe?"

"20 septims will do."

¨That…¨ sounded cheap. But I wasn't one to turn down a good prize. "I'll come by with it later."

He gave me a smiling nod before he turned for some other customers, who seemed annoyed that I had gotten to ¨cut in line.¨

The stairs leading to the Wind District were frozen and icy to walk on. Good thing I happened upon Anoriath-Tilma wouldn't have handled these stairs easily, even less so with the sack of meat.

I could hear Heimskr shouting prayers to Talos even before I had reached the top of the stairs. Does he ever do anything else?

High piles of shoveled snow covered the edges of the walk-path circling the dead tree that stood in the middle of the opening above the stairs. The symbol of the Wind District. Sometimes pilgrims would show up only to take a look at the tree and then journey back home. I never cared to figure out why. What's so special about a dead tree?

Other than Heimskr, a small crowd listening to his prayers, and a few guards, there wasn't much life in the Wind District. There were no stores here, no taverns or stalls. The Wind District was home to the more ¨noble¨ folks of Whiterun, and by ¨noble,¨ I meant rich. The streets were wide and all the lived-in houses were two-floored, decorated, and had their own backyards.

But there were no crowds on the streets. Only people with purpose walked here, people that lived here, or people that intended to visit The Temple of Kynareth or the Hall of the Dead, to pay their respect. And of course, one needed to walk through here to reach the Cloud District, where the Jarl lived. But even fewer climbed those stairs.

Heimskr raised his voice and lifted his arms towards me as I approached to walk past. Surely to draw my attention. I gave him a nod, as usual, before my eyes set on the giant statue of Talos behind him. The statue, as tall as a building, depicted a man wearing old chainmail armor, an old-style helmet with ¨winged ears,¨ and a large cape over his shoulders and back that hung all the way to the ground. He stood victorious over a large serpent pierced by his sword. He looked more like a hero of old than a god.

I never cared much for the gods. But Talos was one I could see myself get behind. He was a warrior-god. Supposedly Tiber Septim himself, given godhood by the others after he had conquered all of Tamriel eons ago. A man made god. I didn't like history much, it never interested me, but stories like his did have their charm. Myths and legends of old. Like Ysmir and Ysgrammor. All true warriors made their stamp on history to the point that it became legend and myth. Hard to tell what was true and not. But the point remained: even after history forgot them, they remained, passed down in myth.

Was it really possible for a man to become a god? Imagine that… Heimskr surely liked to remind us of it.

The stairs to Jorrvaskr were shoveled, and the way leading to the Skyforge, but not much else.

"I'm here."

The others were eating breakfast already. Most of the chairs were empty, Kodlak and Vilkas left for Winterhold yesterday and Aela was still missing-if one could call it that-but it had been over a month since we last saw her. Farkas's cair was empty as well.

"About time," Torvar greeted me from his seat, mead in hand.

"I brought lunch," I said as I walked up to the table and placed the sack of meat by the stewpot.

"Saves me the trouble, thank you, dear," Tilma said, a wrinkled smile on her face as I looked at her.

"Anoriath said you hadn't been to the market yet?"

"Hurt my foot on the stairs, I did. Couldn't really go to the market then, could I? With even more stairs to walk."

"You okay?"

"Oh I'll go see the priestess of Kynareth later, she's a good healer," she said with a smile.

I gave her a look over as I walked to my seat. She didn't look to be in pain. "Yeah, you do that. Where's Farkas?" I asked as I took my seat.

"He went with Kodlak and Vilkas," Athis answered.

"What?"

"You know how he is," Njada pitted in. "¨I go where my brother goes,¨" She mimicked his voice. Farkas's graveled voice with a feminine tone was enough to make most of us laugh.

"I go where my brother goes, eh," I repeated to myself as I reached for bread and butter.

"What are you smiling at?" Ria said with a happy tone as I had finished making myself a sandwich and was pouring myself a mug of mead. I hadn't realized I was smiling.

"I…" I looked up at her across the table. "I was just trying to imagine Farkas in a library." Now I knew I was smiling, as that picture caused everyone at the table to laugh.

"Ha! He'd be in agony," Athis said.

"Right! And how long you think till he'd start breaking stuff?" Torvar laughed.

"Breaking stuff? I think he'd just sit there, like a lost child waiting to be rescued," Ria laughed after him.

"Now don't speak ill of Farkas," Tilma interrupted with a smile. Her words carried little weight as she too had been laughing. "Now, the porridge is done, so please pass it along as I'd rather not walk around the table." With that said she handed a plate of porridge-to pass along-to Ria who was closest before she reached for another plate to make another serving.

The courtyard doors opened behind me as I got my plate and Vignar and Brill entered, followed by a cold gush of air and snowflakes.

"Tilma! Is the breakfast ready yet?" Vignar asked as he walked to his seat, Brill closing the doors behind him.

"Right on time. How was the tea?" Vignar always had his morning tea in the courtyard before breakfast.

"Too sour."

"There's nothing sour in mint-tea," Tima said.

"Don't mind him, the tea was fine, as always," Brill assured Tilma as he too took his seat. "Your taste buds are off, old man! Like much else with you," he continued with a voice loud enough for Vignar to hear.

"Huff! You should learn to pay your elders some respect!"

"Absolutely. Now should I soak your bread as usual, or are your teeth no longer ¨to soft to chew with?¨"

"Humbug! I'll have you know, back in my day us Companions used-"

"Let's just enjoy breakfast shall we?" Tilma thankfully interrupted before there'd be no end to it. "Before it gets cold." Vignar was usually not this grumpy, but some days he was more ¨sour¨ than others. Like his ¨tea,¨ I guess.

Brill gladly took the plate from her hands and handed it to Vignar.

"So…" I began as we all had gotten our foon. "…what's on today's agenda?"

"We're leaving for a contract," Njada answered. "Some bandits between Helgen and Falkreach decided to blockade the road and rob merchants and caravans."

"Falkreach? Those are Aela's contracts." She couldn't have passed it down to Njada.

"Aela's not here. That doesn't mean her requests letters ceased to arrive."

"You went through her mail?" I couldn't argue with her reasoning. But still, going through someone's mail without their permission? Even if it was for work, I felt it was… impolite.

"Stopping bandits is what we do. They won't stop robbing people because we ¨take a break.¨ And we still need to get paid." Her eyes were serious. And again, I couldn't argue with her reasoning.

"No, you're right." ¨Take a break,¨ eh. That's putting it mildly. "So who's we?"

"I'm going with her," Athis answered before Njada could.

"Well if all the buzzkills are leaving, we might just get to have some fun around here?" Torvar interrupted.

"There's still work to be done here," I told Torvar before continuing with Njada. "And when are you leaving?"

"After breakfast. The sooner we leave, the sooner we get paid."

"Right."

"Sugar, please," Ria asked. I could see why-the porridge tasted as bland as it smelled, oat and water. Guess we're out of milk again. At least there's butter, I never liked to sweeten things.

"And what are you up to?" Athis asked me, passing the sugar to Ria.

"It's breakfast! You don't need a third mug of mead!" Njada lectured Torvar over the question.

"I'm heading off to help Eorlund later," I answered Athis's question. Torvar answered something to Njada as well, didn't pay attention to what. "Though I thought I'd get some training done before that," I continued as I pushed away my empty plate.

"Training! Ha!" Vignar interrupted. "Have you seen the courtyard?"

"...What's wrong with the court-oh no." That's right, it had been snowing all night.

"What a sight it was. Enjoying my morning tea surrounded by walls of white. Looks like shovels'll be your weapons today. " It was clear he was enjoying himself. He always did find it enjoyable to watch the younger generation do basic labor.

"Guess there's no way around it. Who's up for some shoveling?"

"Afraid not, Athis and I need to get packing."

"Ria?"

"Would you like some help getting to the healer, Tilma?" Ria asked, ignoring my look.

"That would be lovely, dear."

"Oh no! You're not getting away from this one!" I said as Ria tried to hide her smile in her palm. "Brill, help Tilma to the temple."

"Sure."

"Guess it's me, Ria, and Torvar then."

"I already shoveled the stairs and the way to the Skyforge," Torvar instantly complained.

"Good, then you've already warmed up."

"But!-"

"No buts! You're acting like children! You and Ria both!"

"I'm going to help, aren't I!" Ria defended herself.

"After you tried to slither out of it. Now let's go."

"Right, right. Just let me head down for some warmer clothes," Torvar complained as he rose to turn for the stairs.

"Don't take too long," I said after him.

Vignar wasn't kidding. Not only was the entire backyard covered in waist-deep snow, but snow had also fallen off the roof, creating a high wall of white surrounding the deck behind Jorrvaskr.

"Let's get started then," I said with a sigh as I handed Ria a shovel.

"Think we'll be done before noon?"

"I doubt it," I answered as I detached my cape and folded it over one of the chairs before grabbing a shovel for myself.

Like at home, the snow wasn't heavy. But the courtyard was a lot larger than the porch at home. This would take a long while.

"Let's put the snow against the walls, might as well insulate the building a bit."

"Yes, boss," she said as she got to work. There was a bit of a tone in her voice, she didn't sound as cheerful as she usually does.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing…" she said as she shoveled. But I had barely begun to help before she continued, "...It's just. You've always been a bit uptight, but lately you've begun bossing people around, telling them what to do."

"No, I don't."

"See. You say that, but I don't really think you believe it."

"Is this about Torvar? If he had his way, we'd all be drinking all day, and nothing would ever get done."

"It's not just Torvar, but me, Njada, and Athis as well. Even Brill, who isn't even a Companion. These days you only treat the Circle members as equals."

"Just because I'm a member of the Circle doesn't mean I'm above you others. There are no ranks in Jorrvaskr."

"Again, you say that. But you don't act like it. You're getting like Skjor, but even he put the contracts on the wall-rather than hand them to people and tell them to do it." I didn't like her mentioning Skjor in such a condescending way, even though I was the one her condescendence was aimed at.

"Don't speak ill of Skjor."

"I'm not, not really. But he's always been that way, so it's different. But you, you're changing. And I don't like it." A part of me saw what she was getting at, there has been a lot on my mind lately and maybe it had affected me. But our conversation right now felt a bit uncomfortable.

"Ria I… Maybe you're right. After Skjor… Maybe I have been distracting myself with work a bit too much and it got in over my head." Truth be told, I did have the habit of pushing my feelings aside.

I tightened my grip on the shovel as I pushed it into the snow, I didn't feel like looking at Ria right now, I could feel her sympathetic look dig into my back.

"We all miss him," she said after a while.

"I know."

"And I don't think you're handling it that well. Ignoring it doesn't help." She was getting annoying again.

"I'm not ignoring it. I know he's gone."

"I'm just saying you should talk about it. The others aren't that good at listening, but you can always speak with me." Really annoying. I know she means well, but I needed to handle it my own way-and right now, that was by avenging him.

"I'm fine! Now, by Ysgrammor, where's Torvar? He should be here by now." I threw the shovel into the snow and turned for the door. I came out to train, not shovel snow and talk about my feelings.

I tore the door open with more strength than I had intended, and shut it behind me with even more.

Werewolves… how quick we were to anger.