They made it back to the Bannered Mare before anyone in Jorrvaskr began their day. Though her legs and arms screamed in protest as they hurried down the many uneven steps of the city, Svana and Farkas managed to trundle into the inn before her strength gave out. They collapsed into a pair of corner seats, and after a beat of silence, began to laugh.
"You think anyone saw?" Svana said through her giggling.
Farkas only shrugged in response, still laughing as he bared bright, white teeth through his grin.
"Thanks, by the way," she said quietly. "No one's ever looked out for me like that."
"I'm a Companion, I help people. It's what I do."
"Keep at it and you're going to find yourself an admirer." There. A flirt. Shameless as it was obvious, but Svana would leave soon. If this was the last she was going to be in the company of a handsome, legendary mercenary, she might as well toss her hat in the ring.
Besides, he didn't seem to mind.
"Well, get in line." With a smooth motion of his hand, he waved down the innkeep, still starting up the kitchen to take the first orders of the day.
"Hulda! A round of mead and keep 'em coming!"
The innkeeper didn't even wait for him to finish his sentence before Svana heard the clinking of clay mugs and bottles from the larder.
"So, think I'll be any good out there, on my own?" Svana asked as she idly watched the staff behind the counter.
Farkas hummed in contemplation. "You'll need a few more basic lessons, but I think you'll get there. You're pretty strong, you just need to know how to direct it."
"Swinging hammers all day doesn't really call for grace."
He gave a thoughtful, little hum. "How long did you work for the smith?"
"My whole life I think? I think I grew out of 'apprentice' years ago, but I don't know what I'd call it. He runs the store and has me make things to sell."
"Sounds like you were more the smith than he was." Their drinks came, along with freshly baked bread and bowls of creamy butter. Farkas helped himself; Svana followed suit.
"Kind of? We just… well, I made simple things. He usually took over more complex work, like cogs and screws and little bits like that."
"Don't sell yourself short."
She hadn't been trying to, but… "Pats on the head don't get the work done right."
Farkas raised a bushy brow. "How'd he keep you working for him?" he interrupted before Svana could answer. "Aside from paying your wages?"
She thought about that for a moment. The smith was a cantankerous old man, but it wasn't as though she could blame him— he was a widower with a daughter he spoiled to the heavens. She'd never work a day in her life, and he made sure Svana toiled away at the forge long enough to pay for her every want.
"I guess it was just the principle of doing your work and putting food on the table. My family never really… had a choice. We found what work we could." She shrugged, picking at her food. "If we were paid copper pieces to rake muck all day I think we'd do it."
Farkas frowned at that. "Sounds like hard work. Glad you got out of it."
"I mean, once I find my brother, I'll probably head back to Kynesgrove and go back to the smith." Svana could only offer a shrug in response.
"Maybe. But you're strong. You can keep up with lessons. Most whelps don't last as long as you do on their first day of training."
Svana's heart soared at the compliment.
"I can't give you an official offer, but I think you should join the Companions."
She was practically dancing on clouds at his words. "You really think so?"
"The way you held your ground against those brigands? Against me?" A bark of a laugh. "Surprised Aela didn't sign you up on the spot."
She smiled at that. It felt nice to be validated in that way. That he believed her enough that he expected the arrogant huntress to bring her into the fold instantly. That he saw enough potential within her to shape into something greater.
Most looked at her and saw a plain, if ill-mannered blacksmith. But not Farkas, and for whatever strange and compelling reason, that went beyond a simple compliment.
The easiness didn't last long. Svana noticed a weedy-looking girl walk in through the front door of the inn, looking every which way with a letter held out in her hand. She would have ignored her, had she not called out, "I'm looking for Svana of Kynesgrove."
Svana immediately shot up from her seat, at which the girl made her way over. "Message for you."
The girl was an Imperial scout, dressed as plainly as possible to avoid attention from patrolling Stormcloaks. She had been tasked with delivering a letter to Svana, a copy of scout reports from the Eastern holds. When Svana asked who had sent it, she only replied with, "Your friend, Hadvar," before making her way out of the inn.
Hadvar.
He had made good on his word, then. She wondered if he had made it out of Riverwood already, back to wherever his superiors were waiting for him.
Farkas kept his gaze on her, watching as her fingers trembled trying to break the seal.
For helping us at Helgen. The scouts saw someone matching the description of your brother. We think he's made his way to Winterhold. I've copied the logs so you can see for yourself. Stay safe. - H.
And indeed, there were logs of scout reports, copied in neat handwriting. Dates, times, locations and brief descriptions of what had happened. But one location stood out among the paragraphs of information.
Winterhold.
Svana let out a shaky breath, the words getting harder and harder to read as she imagined what Onmund's journey must have been like.
'Carriage driver took an unusual detour, breaking off from the West road to the North one log read.
Another confirmed with, Carriage stopped at Winterhold outskirts- unusual. Dropped only one passenger. Male Nord, early twenties.
Svana's guts roiled with anxiety.
"You okay?" Farkas's voice was a low grumble. "What's it say?"
Svana's mouth hung uselessly. "I… I think they found my brother." Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"Can I see?" She handed Farkas the letter, and she watched his eyes dart across every letter. Finally, he confirmed, "Winterhold, eh?"
Svana leaned forward on her knees, burying her face in her hands. "Oh gods… Why would he go there?" She knew of course, why he would go, but even reading it felt surreal.
Svana remembered the arguments with Onmund, all the hurt and broken words they exchanged with each other. But even her memories were clouded with anger and fear: all she saw was Onmund's tear-stained face yelling back at her, his words falling on her deaf ears.
"What's… What would he even do in Winterhold?" she said with a shaky breath. "How did he even manage?"
Farkas never took his eyes off the letter, as though memorizing the locations. "You said he was a mage?"
"Not… directly."
"They teach them magic at the College of Winterhold."
Of course. She bit her lip, as if it could quell all the terrible things she would say about Onmund… but instead, she asked Farkas, "Have you been there? To Winterhold?"
"Once or twice to clear out some experiments gone wrong. Skjor once had to deal with a bunch of skeletons that got loose and spooked the townsfolk."
Svana shuddered at the thought. "Sounds horrible." Gods. Skeletons came from witches and necromancers who hid in caves of ice, terrorizing anyone who would interrupt their foul magic.
And Onmund had skipped his way there, practically offering himself on a silver plate. Stupid, she thought over and over. Stupid that he'd done it. Stupid that she pushed him at all.
Farkas hummed in agreement. "It is. Snotty, weak-necked mages looking down at you the whole time they ask us to clean up after their messes." He grumbled. "They don't even tip for the trouble."
Svana cursed under her breath, smoothing out her hair in an attempt to soothe her frayed nerves. "He'd really go to a place like that?"
"Must've been desperate." Those words hit Svana like a punch in the gut.
"It's all my fault, I did this, I pushed him there."
"Might not be all bad if he's a mage." It was an honest attempt to assuage her fears.
Every horrible thought entered Svana's mind at once, like water rushing out of a broken dam. She imagined how her brother would walk in, all kindness and good-natured attitude, only to be cut up in some experiment.
Farkas put a large hand to her shoulder, his thumb drawing idle circles as he tried to get her to focus on him. "Hey, it's okay. It's okay."
"No, it's not okay! My brother's going to become the plaything of witches and Talos knows what else!"
"It's gonna be okay."
"Farkas no, please, this is Onmund, you don't know him, he's… he's soft! He doesn't know any better. He's so trusting and kind and… gods they'd just eat him up right there."
But he didn't relent. "I'll tell you why it's gonna be fine. I'm gonna go with you."
"You can't!" Her entire world was practically falling around her ears. If she had been quicker to catch him that night, if she hadn't been thrown into the back of that cart and had to find her way out of Helgen... They'd be back home, arguing about chores.
"You can't," Svana repeated in defeat.
This was all her fault.
"Yes, I can." Farkas insisted. "I'll go with you to Winterhold, deal?"
"No, I…" Her hands shook. "You're a Companion, I'd have to pay you, right? You can't just do favors for me!"
"You paid that fee when you warned the Jarl about the dragon."
"But how? Winterhold is so far away. We'd need more supplies, horses, clothes!"
He never lifted that steadying hand from her shoulder, and gave a gentle squeeze.
"I know a way through the mountain passes to get there quickly. There are trolls and wolves and ice wraiths, but we can make it there in one piece."
"That sounds dangerous."
"Good training for when you finally join up."
"But… You can't just take off like that right? Wouldn't the others need to know?"
"You're right." He removed his hands and folded the letter back neatly. "So I figure we better get permission."
"I don't want to get you in trouble." Not worth the trouble, she thought. She was a nobody that was wasting his time.
But he wouldn't relent. "I'll make you my responsibility."
"Farkas…"
"Let me do this."
"Because…" She sighed, knowing what he was going to say. "It's because you help people, isn't it?"
Farkas only responded with a warm smile.
The Companions gawked at her.
Svana had not felt so small or so perceived before this very moment. She wished that the dragon from Helgen would swoop in and burn her where she stood. Anything was better than standing under the gaze of the other famed warriors.
Farkas had done a commendable job of outlining his would-be duties to Svana, helping her train and overseeing her progress before she would make her way over to Winterhold. Not as a Companion, but as a whelp of sorts, just skilled enough to make it out of harm's way.
Kodlak Whitemane was an impressive figure indeed. He had a massive build to him, despite the age proudly etched in the wrinkles across his face. While the other Companions, she noticed, had already cast their judgments on her by their expressions alone, Kodlak remained neutral — as though waiting to hear Farkas's assessment before making up his own mind on the situation.
"I couldn't just let her go. I'm sorry for hiding it, but she needs help."
The other Companions glanced at each other, cocking brows and shaking heads. Kodlak addressed Svana directly. "Is this true?"
"I… Yes." She was at a loss for words. "I didn't want Farkas to help, initially," she admitted, "but Winterhold is a long way from here. I'd like to equip myself with some knowledge, to keep me safe on the roads."
Kodlak didn't say anything for some time, stroking his beard thoughtfully.
Svana wanted that silence to end. Quickly, she added, "If it's too much trouble I understand, I don't mean to impose—"
"Why do you speak so lowly of yourself?" Kodlak's voice was surprisingly gentle. She half-expected a gruff dismissal, an acknowledgment that this had all truly been a waste of time.
She didn't know how to answer. And after some fumbling, she finally said, "I'm in the presence of the Companions of legends. Your stories are heard all over Skyrim, even in my village they sing about your exploits!"
Silence, at first.
Then a rumbling from Kodlak's chest, which erupted into a burst of laughter. Laughter which spread to each member of the Companions, save for Farkas, who hung his head low. Had she said the wrong thing? Did she insult them? Or… did she truly sound as foolish as she thought she did?
"Did I offend?" She asked.
Kodlak raised a hand and the laughter died down to mocking grins from the others.
"You did no such thing."
An answer that surprised even the others, by the way more than one mouth fell open.
Kodlak shifted in the seat before the grand dining table, the crackling of flames filling the silence as the Harbinger thought. Finally, he spoke. "You praise the Companions yet seek to belittle yourself. How do you expect to be any good in battle if you're constantly second-guessing yourself?"
What could she say in that moment? She supposed the way her jaw hung uselessly was enough of a response for Kodlak to continue.
"We are not unaware of our own legend, we know our members take pride in the work we do. However, we all know where to temper our arrogance." He smiled kindly. "Do not speak so lowly of yourself before you are given the chance to be judged."
Svana swallowed a lump in her throat. "I'm sorry. I am… was just a blacksmith's apprentice, my father is a farmer." Honesty was always the best policy, wasn't it? "I don't know how to say hello to most folk on a good day, let alone a Companion."
Kodlak smiled warmly at that. "You've spent some time with Farkas, you're familiar with our stories and our legend. Given the chances you were given, you truly have no interest in joining?"
She shook her head, "I promised my Ma and Pa I'd bring my brother home. Fool's gone to Winterhold."
"Surely you could pay us to accompany you?"
"I don't have money. I… I was at Helgen, the Imperials took everything from me."
"Oh, not this again," Aela scoffed from where she sat. "Tell me, did you convince the Jarl of that so-called dragon attack?"
"Aela…" came a growl of warning from Farkas.
Fire burned in Svana's eyes. "And I told you before, you don't have to believe me, but if you see that dragon flying above, you can thank me for the warning."
"Please." Aela scoffed again, waving her hand dismissively.
The huntress turned her full attention to Farkas. "I don't know or care what you want to do with her, ice brain. Toughen up the farmgirl all you want, and when you're done, you can stop playing around and get back to your actual job." She got up from her seat and left, the chair scraping against the wood so loudly it made Svana grimace.
"Don't mind her." Kodlak regarded Aela as she made her way down into the living quarters. "Farkas is more than welcome to train you, however he sees fit. You're lucky he's taken a care to your cause."
"I just want to bring my brother home."
"Fair enough." Kodlak then turned his attention to Farkas. "Do not allow this to interfere with your duties, however. The mead and meat don't pay for themselves."
Farkas nodded, a hand to his chest in affirmation.
As the others dismissed themselves for the day, Svana still hung her head low. She felt foolish; why did she let Farkas talk her into this? She should've left when she could, before he caught her that very morning.
"You alright? Listen, like I said, Aela's a bit of a bitc—"
"I'm sorry," Svana blurted out, too quickly for her to stop herself.
"You didn't do anything wrong."
"I embarrassed you."
"Nah, you didn't." He smiled at her reassuringly.
"She's not wrong." Svana looked to him, locking her sapphire gaze with his silver one. "I appreciate your help, and I'll do my best under your guidance. But I can't always rely on everyone else trying to help me. If I'm going to find Onmund, I need to work on… whatever I've got to work on the rest of the way. Fighting, training, whatever it takes."
Farkas offered her a pleased grin. "So, to the yard then?"
"Don't stop until I knock you on your ass." Svana matched his determined gaze with one of her own.
Farkas howled with laughter. "Challenge accepted!"