Authors note: Skyrim Elder Scroll and all characters and original storyline all belong to their respective persons. With that being said my OC and added stories/plots are mine. Dialogue in some canon scenes have been modified for the progression of the story, to give the NPC characters more life and to be believable. If you're not okay with this do not read. Otherwise please enjoy!

Farkas

It had taken over two years to find out the bare minimum of the legendary Dragonborn, Mjolnir. Endless interviews had led Farkas to only a few things. The Dragonborn, Mjolnir, resided only occasionally in Whiterun and perhaps held residence in Markarth. Nothing much else was said of the elusive woman who could shout a deafening thu'um. Wreaking havoc on the lives of dragons and sucking from them their souls. She was maybe a member of the Companions or in fact a member of the devious Thieves Guild. Others whispered that they had seen her in the company of Daedra. She was a Stormcloak but others claimed they had witnessed her wearing Imperial attire.

Farkas had a hard time believing that. But he had begun to question his own intuition. He knew for a fact that Mjolnir owned property in Whiterun. She had insisted they stay there upon their marriage. He had sworn on his blade on Mjolnir's legitimacy as a companion. He had never heard her speak of owning a home in Markarth. Such a distant place at that. Farkas couldn't even recall if she had ever mentioned she had lived there during her adventures, let alone even visit.

She never bothered to haggle the shopkeepers and would pay the price whether it was fair or not, what sense then was there for Mjonir to steal? On top of that Farkas refuted the Daedra claims altogether. Mjolnir was too carefree for something that not to mention she could hardly ever take anything seriously.

And yet after all this time and his wife's disappearance, Farkas couldn't be entirely sure who Mjolnir was. Farkas' beast blood croned at her absence and yearned for her return. And yet it thirsted for truth, and was content where teeth met flesh. Deep down he desired to tear out her throat for her lies.

"What are you sulking about now, ice brain?" Aela the Huntress, another member of the circle and one of Mjolnir's closest friends (as far as Farkas could recollect) had sat next to him, overlooking the great fire pit. It's spitting flames never dying out, no doubt because of Tillman's doing.

Farkas grunted, in no mood to banter with Aela's jokes. Aela who was a skilled hunter and warrior was also very adept in perceiving the emotions around her. Although Farkas had never voiced out loud his uncertainty regarding his wife, not even to his own brother, Vilkas, Aela knew this to be the root cause of his blackened mood.

"She is alive and well shield -brother." Aela told him her eyes were smoky as she gazed into the fire, her thoughts far away. Perhaps further than The Reach itself Farkas thought, or wherever Mjolnir's travels took her.

Farkas wondered how she could even have so much faith in a woman who had been nothing more than a fantasy to him. "It's been over two years Aela," Farkas grunted, drinking deep from his drinking horn and glared at the red headed woman who did not look the least bit bothered by his hostility.

"And all I've heard are whispers in the hills and across the mountains." Aela said nothing, as she had heard about the same. Whoever Mjolnir was, it wasn't the companion she had come to know. Still, Aela thought Mjolnir was more than that and had suspected that that scraggly young woman who had turned up, swinging her mace wildly at a giant for folk she did not know, was destined to be so much more than the stolen rags she bore. As time ebbed on Aela had seen the world sit heavier and heavier on Mjolnir's shoulders. Her dark eyes had become darker.

"There are whispers about us too, Farkas. Those that claim to know all about us and really know nothing at all." Aela's voice had gone lower, taking in Farkas who still looked like he needed to be convinced. She patted him heavily on the shoulder, offering a grim smile as comfort. "You'd hear about Mjolnir's death. She is too great of a warrior for her death to go overlooked," She paused and then quickly added "Im sure she has her reasons behind her disappearance."

With that Aela stood and left quickly through the back doors of Jorrvaskr, leaving Farkas alone with his thoughts. And after downing as much mead as he could he stumbled out of Jorrvaskr, ignoring his brother's concerned gaze and ventured down into the marketplace where he trailed along the uneven walkway.

Only the guards were out this late, watching Farkas make his way to Breezehome. A place he had not been back to since he last saw Mjolnir.

"Hail companion!" Another guard greeted in a low tone. Yeah yeah Farkas glowered, hail companion this and hail companion that. It was an honor and a piece of him that he would be forever proud of. But it still didn't stop some from talking behind their backs about them smelling like wet dogs. If only they knew, Farkas chuckled darkly. They wouldn't be able to utter anything and would cower in fear at him.

By now Farkas had reached the small house near the gate of Whiterun. Next door was Adrianna and her sleepy forge. Inhaling it smelled strongly of the wildflowers that had gotten out of hand and there was a lingering scent of metal from the forge and smelter.

And just faintly Farkas thought he could taste Mjolnir in the wind. Must have been some strong mead Farkas thought, twisting his key and pushing the door open. Or maybe it was the desire to see her again that he had begun to imagine her presence.

Pushing the heavy wooden door open and snapping it shut behind him Farkas stepped inside where the hearth greeted him warmly.

"That's strange." Farkas drew his sword. The smell of blood wafted heavily from upstairs although it was silent. Someone must have broken in. After all this house had laid abandoned for quite a while, it wasn't unreasonable to think it to be safe to break in or to hide in.

As quietly as possible Farkas tip-toed up the stairs while they groaned under his weight. Farkas swore that the phantom smell of his wife was even stronger as he ascended the stairs and he made a note to ask where that batch of mead had come from.

Farkas marched to the bedroom, and pushed open the door, expecting to find a common thief or some beggar that had sought out shelter from the elements. Instead Farkas came upon Mjolnir who jolted from her hunched position, trying to remove her heavy armor. Her gauntlets and boots were casted off to the side and her favorite maces laid on the wooden table.

"Farkas?" She croaked in surprise as if she wondered why he'd be there at all. Farkas' spine tingled at the call of her voice but he hardened his heart and pursed his lips. Why wouldn't he? Then again why was he here at all? He opened his mouth to demand of her an explanation that he had desired for all this time only to find that he didn't really care. Did it matter where she had gone or why? She was alive and that's all that mattered. Aela had been right and since Farkas was too drunk to argue he turned around and walked out from where he came.

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