The Misadventures of a Pragmatic Dragonborn

by Faisalliot

The dragon tore it's eyes from hers and flew up from the ground, sending down gusts of air great enough to bring her to her knees. The dragon loomed above her and let out a terrible roar. A great gout of flame spurted from it's throat as it screamed, "Zu'u fen ni oblaan!" A retelling of Skyrim's story lines following a Dragonborn who's a little more pragmatic than others.

4. Chapter 4

The next morning, Flynn's hand still ached.

Eira shuffled in her bed and let out a small groan. Flynn heard the sound of rustling fabric as Eira presumably pulled herself into a sitting position. Flynn rolled over and watched in silence as Eira yawned loudly, cracked her back, rolled her shoulders, and sucked in a breath audibly. Eira winced and rubbed at her temples before she fumbled for something on her nightstand, most likely in search of the water her drunk self had probably left there. Flynn smiled; Flynn had put a fresh pitcher of cold water there a couple minutes ago, and left a healing potion too. Eira found the pitcher (after she nearly knocked it over) and chugged a lot of the water before gingerly sipping down the healing potion, muttering that her drunk self had been generous.

"Actually, I was the generous one." Flynn corrected as she pulled herself into a sitting position.

Eira screamed and threw the half-empty pitcher of water at Flynn's head on reflex, and subsequently drenched the wall and the top half of Flynn's shirt.

Eira clutched a hand to her chest and kicked in Flynn's general direction. " Flynnigan! You scared the Oblivion out of me!"

Flynn shivered a little as the cold water trickled down her neck, but laughed nonetheless. "Sorry. Didn't think that'd startle you so much." She summoned a gentle flame into her palm and dried her shirt before she plucked up the pitcher Eira had hurled at the wall.

Eira furrowed her eyebrows and sat cross-legged on the bed. "Wait a minute, why did you break into my house again? I thought you were staying at the Inn since my father-in-law is in the open house."

"Flynn isn't even your name, is it?"

Flynn reflexively squeezed her fist tightly, and broke the handle clean off the pitcher. Looking between Eira and the pitcher for a moment, Flynn inconspicuously melted the handle back onto the pitcher, whistling innocently. Eira, instead of laughing at the humorous attempt, frowned deeply.

"Hey, whoa, what's going on? What's the matter?"

'Fuck, shit, it's too early for confrontation,' Flynn hissed in her head as her mind whirled in an attempt to find a way to weasel her way out of answering Eira honestly.

"Mama? Why are you screaming?" Haming called from the doorway, attracting Eira's attention.

Opening! Yes! Thank you, Haming! Flynn dove across the room, casting an invisibility spell.

"Oh, Flynn scared me again. Don't worry about it, sweetheart. Did I wake you up?"

Haming rubbed his eyes, yawning. "Yeah, it's okay though. How did Aunt Flynn scare you, though? She's not even here."

Eira looked confused, "What are you talking about? She's right-" Eira turned back around only to see the space Flynn had occupied empty. "-Not there." Eira sighed loudly, running a hand through her hair. "...Dammit. Woman! Where are you hiding!? I'm going to find you and now we'reactually going to talk! You can't hide from me forever!" Eira yelled, peering around the room.

"Mom, do you need to lay back down?" Haming asked with such a bewildered face that it nearly made Flynn laugh.

Eira shook her head, springing up from her bed. "That invisibility potion or spell is going to wear off eventually, and I'll hear the door opening if you try to leave!"

"Touching anything would break the enchantment anyway." Flynn rolled her eyes, the sound of her voice making Eira and Haming jump.

"Where are you!?"

Flynn crept across the room just as Eira passed her. "Now, why would I tell you that?"

Eira made a frustrated noise, swinging her arms around wildly in hopes of somehow managing to locate Flynn by hitting her.

"Y'know, I could just leave and run. And I'd succeed too, because you can't chase me to save your life, I'm too fast for you." Flynn teased while slipping behind Eira's kitchen table.

"If you could leave and run, why don't you!?"

"Because watching you swing your arms like a moron is very entertaining."

Eira whirled around just in time for Flynn's invisibility enchantment to wear off.

"...Gods damn it." Flynn muttered, sitting back on her haunches. "Good morning, Haming."

"Morning, auntie."

"Be a dear and go open the door for me, yeah?"

"Haming, if you open that door, I'm not buying you that book you want." Eira sent her son a warning look.

Flynn slowly rose to her feet, eyes darting between Eira and the door. "If you open the door, I'll buy you three books, Haming."

Haming looked his mother in the eye and slowly opened the door.

"Thanks, you filthy enabler!" Flynn dodged Eira's hands as she darted out the front door. "Bye Haming, love you!"

Eira tore off in pursuit of Flynn, who was horrified to find that her friend was a little faster than she'd anticipated. However, it wasn't fast enough and Flynn was still able to get away by pushing Eira into the river while the townsfolk made bets. In other word, Flynn was a-

"You cheater! Get back here!"

Ralof rushed over and pulled Eira out of the river. "Flynn, that was a low blow!"

"Shut up and let me evade confrontation!" Flynn scrambled up the wooden pole that supported Alvor's forge while she yelled over her shoulder.

"Get off of the roof, girl!" Alvor yelled, brandishing his hot iron rod at her.

Flynn swung her head underneath the ceiling, peering at Alvor. "No."

"You're going to make the ceiling collapse!"

"Alvor, you can pick me up and snap me in half like a twig. I'm not heavy enough to make this break!"

Alvor grumbled, cooling the iron rod. "I suppose you're right. What's this all about, lass?"

"Eira is trying to make me talk about my feelings."

Alvor huffed a laugh at the bluntness. "And here I was thinking you didn't have any of those, save for spite."

"Can't forget the unadulterated rage."

"Aye, there's that too. Stay up there if you like, but it's not my fault if Eira starts throwing rocks at you."

"Alvor, don't encourage her!" Sigrid whipped at her husband's behind with her towel.

"If she doesn't want to talk, she's not gonna. You know how stubborn she is." Alvor defended himself, holding up his hands in surrender.

"And let's be real; that woman has no emotions, she's some sort of daedra or something." Sven barked a laugh as he passed.

"You've got me there, Sven."

A rock suddenly flew out of nowhere, smacking Flynn right in the nose. Startled, Flynn scrambled for purchase and heaved herself back on Alvor's roof.

"You!" Eira hissed, stomping her foot. "Get down here! Stop trying to hide yourself behind humor!"

"You're not my mom, Eira!"

"I might as well be, since yours did a shitty job with you!"

Flynn froze, frowning. "Yeah, you have no idea," Flynn muttered, rubbing her knees.

"What was that?!" Eira yelled up at her.

"I didn't say anything!"

"Ha, as if! I heard you mutter something!"

Lie, lie, lie! "I called you a bitch!"

Eira wasn't buying it. "I didn't hear anything that sounded remotely like the word 'bitch', Flynn!" Eira sagged, leaning her weight on one leg and crossing her arms. "Get off of there, would you?"

Flynn rolled her eyes and decided she'd been childish for long enough. She leaned forward, sliding off of the roof and landing in front of Eira. Shockwaves of pain shot up her ankles briefly as she landed, but quickly faded. Sigrid clucked her tongue, brushing stray bits of straw from Flynn's back.

"Thanks, Sigrid." Flynn turned to eye Sigrid appreciatively.

Sigrid felt Flynn's sides, and frowned deeply at the nearly protruding bones. "You need to eat more, miss."

Flynn shrugged indifferently. "I eat enough."

Sigrid tapped at Flynn's ribcage. "Clearly not. I'll fix you some venison stew. I know it's your favorite."

"Sigrid, you don't have to do that." Flynn exasperatedly shook her head.

"I insist. Go on and hang out with your friends." Sigrid strode back into her house, passing Dorthe as she exited.

"Hey, Dorthe."

Dorthe's face brightened as she caught sight of Flynn. "Hi! Are you going to finish the story tonight?"

Flynn blanked for a moment. What story? Fellglow Keep rang in her mind and Flynn snapped her fingers in remembrance.

Awkwardly finger-gunning Dorthe, Flynn said, "I'm afraid not, little lass."

Dorthe frowned. "Aw! Why not?"

"I promised Carlotta and Ysolda I'd go back to Whiterun with them today." Flynn admitted, before she got an idea to get Eira off her back. "If you want to know, why don't you ask Eira here? She knows."

"Flynn, you-!"

Dorthe bounced on her heels. "Ooh, ooh! Eira, tell me!"

Eira frowned at Flynn viciously. "This isn't over, Flynn. Talk to me later."

"Good luck with that, Eira." Flynn sassed to Eira, mockingly mimicking Eira's disgruntled expression.

Eira strengthened her expression briefly before laughing, Flynn following. "You're so damn stubborn."

"What can I say? It's my trademark."

"I'll tell Dorthe and the rest of the kiddies the rest of the story. We're going to talk later, though."

Flynn huffed. "Pfft. As if. Next thing you know, I'm going to be in Riften."

"Carlotta would hunt you down for me."

Flynn snapped her fingers, frowning exaggeratedly. "Guess I'll have to settle for Markarth!"

By early afternoon, Flynn had successfully evaded Eira, eaten some Venison stew that Sigrid had nearly forced down her throat, and was preparing to make her way across the tundra with Ysolda, Carlotta, and Mila. And so, she was donning her armor. Y'know, so they'd look cool. Not because Flynn was going to make a dramatic entrance into Dragonsreach and rub her achievements in the Jarl's face (who had been less than pleased with her dramatic exit over a year ago, or so had said a very strongly worded letter from his steward). And totally not because she wanted to impress Eorlund, who she'd kind of missed despite their brief encounter.

"Flynn, you're acting ridiculous." Carlotta sighed. "You don't need to wear your armor in the city!"

"Yes, I do. Plus, it'll make you all looked super cool when you walk in the city flanking the Ebony Maiden herself. Mila, wouldn't you love that?"

Mila bounced on her heels. "Yes, yes, yes! I bet Braith wouldn't even so much as poke me!"

"See? She loves the idea."

Carlotta pursed her lips.

Ysolda shook her head, clucking her tongue. "Turning her own kid against her. Dirty move, Flynn. Dirty, dirty."

Flynn slapped her own shoulder, assuring that her armor was on nice and tight. "Alright, ready to go."

"Oh, finally. I was wondering if we would depart in time for dinner." Carlotta rolled her eyes. "Let's go."

"Where'd this bruise on your cheek come from, Orgnar?" Delphine's voice floated across the Inn as Flynn made her way to the door.

"I slipped on some spilt ale and hit my face on the bar." Orgnar said lamely, pouring some mead into a mug for a patron.

Delphine wasn't convinced, and said, "Are you sure? These looks vaguely like knuckles."

Flynn left the Inn before she heard whatever Orgnar said in response.

"So." Eira's voice sounded from behind Flynn.

Flynn audibly sucked in a breath, nervously smiling (though Eira couldn't see it). "Heyyyy…" Flynn shot some more awkward finger guns.

Eira cocked her hip and quirked an eyebrow imploringly. They stood there in pregnant silence while Hadvar and Ralof laughed at them in such a way that could only be described as manly giggling. Alfhild joined Eira's side and mimicked Eira's stance before dramatically thrusting a finger towards Flynn.

"This isn't over! Next time, we will pry your lips open ourselves if we must!"

"Which lips?" Flynn suddenly blurted.

Hadvar and Ralof dissolved into louder laughter at the raunchy joke while Alfhild sagged and tried to hide a laugh. Eira sighed loudly, shaking her head.

"You're gonna get it, girl."

"More like get some!" Ralof blurted, bursting into somehow even louder (and idiotic) laughter with Hadvar.

Dorthe's voice carried from the forge as she asked Alvor, "Daddy, Uncle Ralof said Flynn's going to get some. What does that mean?"

Ralof froze and slowly turned with a shit-eating grin on his face towards Alvor, who was fiercely glaring at him. "Good luck explaining that one, Alvor."

Alvor shook his head. "You're all lucky those jokes still fly over her little head.

Flynn laughed a little, striding up to Eira and hugging her tightly. Whispering low enough that only Eira could hear, Flynn said,

"Maybe I'll talk next time."

"That's a damn lie and you know it."

"It is."

Eira scoffed. "Of course. Listen. You're allowed to talk to us and tell us heavy shit. We're your friends for a reason."

"I know."

"Clearly, you don't." Eira touched Flynn's armored shoulder, stroking the metal thoughtfully with a troubled expression. "Just come home safe, would you? Send more letters."

"I'll visit as often as I can."

"As you were, then. Goodbye, Flynn. Love ya."

"Love you too. Goodbye."

Flynn hugged her friends and waved to the townsfolk of Riverwood before she crossed the cobblestone bridge, her friends and Mila at her side. Eira sighed, leaning back against Ralof.

"What's troubling you?"

Eira stared ahead at Flynn's departing back with a frown. "I just….wish she'd stop saying goodbye as if she meant it truly."

Ralof hummed in understanding, squeezing Eira's shoulder. "We all do, love."

Flynn sighed, listening to the rushing river to her right. Mila trotted next to her while Carlotta and Ysolda chatted idly about inane things like their sales and the hot guys they were sure Flynn would like in the city. Listening to them half-heartedly, Flynn inwardly snorted. All Carlotta and Ysolda could think about were dudes for her; did they ever consider that a nice lady was a viable option? Pussy was just as good as dick, both of which she'd gotten a handful of times since her arrival in Skyrim. Not that she was going to tell them that; that'd give them something else to antagonize her over. Still, the last woman she'd been with had really been something. Rikke had been her name, and while she'd been a tough nut to crack, Flynn's silver tongue had wooed her to a bed and also done...other things. Man, had she had a nice ass. Mila looked questioningly up at Flynn when Flynn began to chuckle. Noticing Mila's inquisitive look, Flynn waved her off.

"Don't worry about it, sweetheart." she answered Mila's unasked query before, on a whim, she stooped down and plucked Mila up from the armpits.

She plopped Mila on top of her shoulders. Mila giggled, swinging her feet.

"Mama, look at how high I am!" She stretched her arms out. "I bet I could touch the sky from up here!"

"I think you'd need to be just a little higher for that, sweetpea." Flynn laughed, prodding Mila's shoe with her gauntleted hand.

"Aww! Oh! I can see Dragonsreach from here!"

Travelling across the tundra took about an hour (mostly occupied by Mila chattering away), but soon enough the stables came into view.

"Oh, I think the Khajiit are here! I wonder what Ri'saad has to sell?" Ysolda tittered excitedly.

However, coming up to the Khajiit, it wasn't Ri'saad's caravan.

"Ahkari?" Flynn frowned in confusion. "What are you doing near Whiterun? I thought you went between Dawnstar and Riften."

"Ah, it is our most favored company." Ahkari purred, a smile stretching on her lips. "It is good to see you, Flynnigan. To answer your query, Ri'saad is having us change the routes so our wares get around more."

"I see, good to know. I do prefer your caravan anyway, Ahkari. It's very nice to see you , my fine fuzzy friends." Flynn kissed Kharjo and Ahkari's cheeks in greeting, leaving Zaynabi and Dro'marash alone to cook in peace. "How have sales been going?"

"Most excellently. However, another draws my attention. The girl is Ysolda, yes?"

"Yes, that'd be me." Ysolda looked like she was about to have a heart attack.

Ahkari bent down and kissed Ysolda's hand. "I have heard much about you. It is a pleasure to meet you face to face."

"Oh!" Ysolda gasped happily, shuffling her feet with excitement.

Flynn and Carlotta exchanged a look before turning back to Ysolda. "Ysolda, knock yourself out. We'll be up in the city if we're needed."

Flynn bent her knee forwarded and bowed her head, extending a "goodbye" to the Khajiit, and promised to return later with food and some money to buy something. With that, she turned heel and strode towards the city gates. Here went nothing.

"I didn't know you were friends with the Khajiit, Flynn!" Mila giggled excitedly from atop Flynn's shoulder.

Flynn was a little startled; she'd almost forgotten Mila was still up there. Flynn briefly wondered how Mila hadn't fallen off when Flynn had bowed to the Khajiit. A guard passed them, looking up inquisitively at the sound of Flynn's name.

"Hush. Don't say my name so near the city."

"Oops. Sorry, Flynn," Mila attempted (and failed) to whisper, patting Flynn's visor in apology.

Resisting the urge to shake her head (doing so might dislodge Mila from her shoulders), Flynn walked to the main gate, flanked by Carlotta. The guard at the front dropped his dagger and sharpening rock upon seeing her.

"Y-You! It's you again! I remember you!" The guard cried, scrambling towards her.

"Ivar, what are you blabbering about?" The other guard by the gate called to her friend.

"Hilde, this is the woman I was telling you about the other day! The Ebony Maiden! The one who freed all of the prisoners from Fellglow and brought one of our Companion's back home!"

The female guard, Hilde, sounded dubious as she said, "Are you sure it's her? I know it's expensive, but anyone could wear ebony armor."

The male guard, Ivar, looked up at her. "If it really is you, speak. I remember your voice as if it were yesterday."

Flynn smiled beneath her visor, and echoed the last words she'd said to this guard, "My name matters little. You may refer to me as the Ebony Maiden."

Ivar laughed incredulously, putting his hands on his head. "You've truly come back! It's an honor, truly it is! I've heard so much about you."

"I'm flattered to know tales of me have travelled throughout the land." Flynn laughed lightly. "It's almost embarrassing. I've finally decided to come back to Whiterun after all this time."

Ivar grasped her hand. "Please, you must come up to Dragonsreach with me. The Jarl has waited for your return to reward you properly for freeing all of those prisoners and bringing our Companion back home."

"I suppose I ought to. I bet his jaw will fall off when he sees who I am."

Flynn turned to Carlotta, who waved her hand and said, "Go on, then. Give me my baby, and be on your way, oh mighty warrioress. And don't go running off on me either, or I'll kick your ass when I find you holed up in Solitude or someplace."

Sighing, Flynn flicked Carlotta on the forehead before handing Mila to her. "You're ruining my plans, Carlotta."

"I know. Now you can't flee to either Riften or Solitude."

"You've deliberately picked my favorite Holds."

"Aye, that I have."

"Fuck you, Carlotta." Flynn shook her head, huffing a laugh before following Ivar into the city.

"So, uh...you're friends with Carlotta?" Ivar asked, looking back at her over his shoulder.

"We've been friends for about as long as I've been in Skyrim, actually."

"I bet she thinks you're really amazing."

"Nah, not really. She knew me before I was, well, y'know, Ebony Maiden. And she's seen me spectacularly smash my face against a tree after I tripped in an uncoordinated tipsy stupor, so I don't think I'll ever be anything remotely close to "amazing" in her eyes."

Ivar burst into surprised laughter, trying desperately to stifle it and failing miserably.

"It's alright to laugh at that." Flynn reassured as she frowned behind her helmet. Some laughing wasn't going to offend her or anything.

Ivar shook his head saying, "I would've never expected that to happen to you."

"You'd be surprised at how utterly stupid I can be sometimes."

"Aye, I believe I would be."

They walked in silence for a minute before Ivar spoke once more.

"Forgive me for sounding so fanatical, but just...you're you. I've heard so many stories about you, I can't help but be awed." Ivar apologized, rubbing the back of his helmet.

"It's alright, I am met with that a lot. All the attention makes it so much nicer when I take off armor and walk around without getting gawked at."

"I'm sure all that attention must be exhausting."

"It is. I've never been one for dancing in the limelight, but it seems to enjoy finding me." Flynn shrugged. "It's very relieving to walk without the ebony armor and be treated normally."

"Personally, I think I'd enjoy the attention, but then again, I'm not you. I have no idea what all that reverence must be like."

"Some may relish it, but I find it distasteful. It's much nicer to be treated normally than like a god, because you're the only one who knows that you aren't anywhere close to that."

"Huh. I guess you're right. All that expectation is stressful, isn't it?"

"Believe me, it is. At least I don't normally disappoint."

Ivar barked a laugh. "Aye, you don't! I've heard tales of your wisdom, can't say I'm disappointed at all."

"My wisdom?"

"Yeah, your wisdom. Haven't you heard the stories people tell about how brilliant you are?"

Flynn frowned at that. "No, actually. Mostly I hear about myself obliterating everything with my sword and destruction magic, or how I demolished those bandits invading Falkreath while piss drunk with my helmet on backwards, and then how I made some sort of demented summoning circle with their corpses with my helmet still on backwards, laid in the middle, and slept for 27 hours straight and no one could move me because the daedra I'd somehow managed to summon kept them away from me. Funnily enough, me and that daedra are friends now."

"Really? A mortal and a daedra as friends?"

"Yeah. His name's Kaizorich. He's pretty cool, and a lesser daedra, so the most he can do is have a catfight with me."

"You're not even pulling my leg, are you? So, that story's true? I've always wondered if it was."

Flynn narrowed her eyes behind her visor, sighing heavily. "I am ashamed to admit that it is. Tell you what, I was confused as all Oblivion when I woke up, covered in dried blood and pee, surrounded by corpses, with my helmet still on backwards."

Ivar laughed incredulously, turning back to gawk at her behind his helmet. "You must be a fun drunk, eh?"

Flynn shrugged, making an "I dunno" noise. "Don't ask me, I can't remember any of the shit I do when I'm drunk."

"Poor alcohol tolerance?"

"Actually, no. I have fantastic tolerance; either I get delightfully tipsy, or I take one too many sips and the next thing I know, I'm waking up in Markarth in the temple of Dibella, my hand still on Dibella's tit, with a priestess yelling at me for trashing the place. There is no in-between."

Ivar tried desperately to stifle his laughter but utterly failed. "Please tell me that isn't a true story."

"I'm ashamed to admit that story is also true."

"Maybe I should party with you sometime."

"Eh, maybe. I'm apparently a very, very fun drunk. But, like I said, I dunno for sure."

"You sure sound like it. Well, here we are."

Flynn started a little, looking at the looming doors of Dragonsreach. She'd been so caught up in conversation she hadn't noticed they'd arrived.

"Should I come in with you?" Ivar asked, tilting his head.

"Yeah, you'll probably want to see this," Flynn felt her lips pull into a grin.

Time to go be a dick to the Jarl.

The doors of Dragonsreach opened with a mighty bang, making Gerda to look up. Her eyes landed on a woman clad in ebony and a town guard, and all she could think to say was,

"Don't track your dirty boots on my clean floor!"

"Don't tell me what to do, Gerda," Flynn muttered as she passed Gerda, stifling laughter at the odd expression Gerda gave her.

She still looked rather peeved, but she said, "You sound familiar. Have we met, ma'am?"

"We have. I'll chat with you later, Gerda. I have business to attend to."

"Well, you certainly look like it," Gerda sniffed in disdain, getting back to sweeping to floors.

Ivar looked at Flynn for a moment before ascending the stairs ahead of him, prompting Flynn to follow by inclining his head. Flynn and Ivar approached the throne, where Balgruuf was conversing quietly with Irileth. Upon their arrival, the Jarl quieted and straightened himself.

"My Jarl," Ivar stooped into a deep bow, "it is with great excitement that I present to you this ebony clad woman."

"Guard," Balgruuf nodded to Ivar, "why have you brought this woman before me?"

"I am sure you have not forgotten about the prisoners who were freed from Fellglow Keep, around the 13th of Frostfall, much less our beloved Companion, who was brought home."

"I should hope not. What does that have to do with this woman?"

Flynn had the profound urge to tell Balgruuf to pull his head out of his ass, but- just barely -held her tongue.

"My lord, can't you see? I present to you, the Ebony Maiden, the great heroine who released those captives from Fellglow so long ago and has brought joy to our fine country with tales of her glory and wisdom."

Ivar's voice sounded almost mocking in a friendly sense. Realizing he was completely exaggerating, Flynn swatted his arm gently.

"I'm not that amazing, Ivar."

Jarl Balgruuf held up his hand at the sound of her voice. "Wait, that voice…" He trailed off before he shook his crowned head. "No, it can't be, you wouldn't be her."

"Who?" Flynn asked, shifting her weight onto one leg.

"A woman I used to know. Still, she must be dead by now. It's of no matter, simply a trifle long past. She wasn't that important anyway."

She wasn't that important anyway.

For some reason, Flynn's heart ached slightly at that. "Dead, you say?"

"Yes. She left my hold long ago, and hasn't returned since. Fiery young lass with a sharp tongue, perhaps too sharp. Can't say I mourn her loss that much."

Flynn sucked in air sharply and screwed up her face, feeling her fist tighten. 'Fuck you, Balgruuf,' she hissed in her head. Keeping her voice steady, she said,

"And why would that be?"

"She insulted me and my judgement rather vehemently, and made a scene while leaving. Call me conceited, but I didn't appreciate her comments."

"Maybe you deserved them." Flynn snapped, crossing her arms.

The Jarl looked at her for a long time, but slowly nodded. "Perhaps I did. I wasn't exactly patient with her."

"Didn't you ask her in the dragon attacking Helgen was a Stormcloak raid gone awry, and proceeded to send her on a mission bound for death in a Nordic tomb with little to no warrior experience?" Flynn asked slowly, trying and failing to hide the bitterness in her voice.

Ivar looked over at her in confusion, but the Jarl laughed heartily as if it were funny to him. Perhaps it was. Scratch that, it definitely was. Nothing more than a trifle. Her fists tightened even more, her ebony-clad fingers digging into the mesh covering her palm.

"Aye, that I did. I got quite the tongue lashing from both her and Eorlund for each incidence." The Jarl paused at that, frowning in thought. "How did you know about that?"

Flynn didn't speak for a long moment, before she unclasped her helmet and pulled it from her head. Black hair in a tight braid cascaded to her lower back, and her silver eyes pierced the Jarls.

"If you thought I was dead, I'm afraid you're not that lucky." She spat.

The Jarl went ghostly pale, realizing what he'd said about her right in front of her. "I-I...you're alive! You're the Ebony Maiden!" He sputtered, rising to his feet. "You haven't come back to my city in so long, I'd assumed you'd perished. I should've known it was you; still as tall as ever I see!" He said quickly, trying to distract from his words.

She wasn't that important anyway.

Flynn didn't say anything. Her gaze never wavered as she peered down at the Jarl coldly.

Jarl Balgruuf was at a loss for words, opening and closing his mouth like a fish, "I-I...well...It's good to have you back in my city." The Jarl nodded. "Welcome back."

"Welcome?"

The Jarl closed his mouth, clasping his hands together nervously. He didn't say anything.

"I don't think I was ever welcome."

Taking a deep breath, Flynn sent the Jarl a mock salute and stuffed her hair into her helmet before shoving it on her head. She whirled around and walked out the door, Ivar stumbling close behind her. The descended the steps leading to Dragonsreach in silence before Ivar spoke.

"So, I take it you and the Jarl have history?"

"Yes, we do," Flynn answered Ivar. "Are you surprised?"

"About a lot of things, actually. Redguard, huh?"

"Yeah. Bet you were expecting some big, scary Nord lady."

"Matter of fact, I was."

"Everyone does."

Chuckling bitterly, she found her feet edging her towards Jorrvaskr. It'd be nice to see Eorlund again.

She wasn't that important anyway.

Her lips pulled into a frown. No, seeing Eorlund would be stupid. He probably didn't even remember her anyway.

"You, uh...didn't even get rewarded by the Jarl."

"I wasn't expecting a reward."

Flynn could picture Ivar frowning as he said, "You certainly deserve one."

"I don't feel as if I do."

Ivar sighed, laughing. "You heroes and your selflessness. Well, I suppose I've already escorted you. I better get back to duty before I'm missed."

"I suppose. Have a good day, Ivar."

"I'll try. You have a good day too, ma'am."

She wasn't that important anyway.

"Wishful thinking," Flynn shook her head, clasping Ivar's hand and shaking it.

"Bah, don't say that. Don't you let one rotten apple spoiled the bunch!" Ivar called over his shoulder as he walked away.

Flynn didn't respond, simply standing in place for all of thirty seconds. People flitted past her, talking and giggling with their friends. The water in the canal gurgled happily as it roiled along. The marketplace bustled down the stairs to her left, the smell of meat, sweets, bread, and flowers wafting through the air. The dead tree towered over her, a priestess clad in orange robes seated on a bench in front of it. Heimskr screamed on and on about tyrannical elves in front of Talos as half-interested passerby idly listened. Children ran around the tree and barrelled into the townguard's legs as they went careening past, all of them screaming and laughing without a care to spare. It was almost strange to be in a city filled with so many people. People strolled past her, taking second glances as they went along.

She felt cramped, overwhelmed even, but at the same time she felt utterly alone.

It felt as if she didn't belong.

Do I...belong anywhere?

To others, that strangely empty feeling in her chest would feel disconcerting, but it was depressingly familiar to her. Sighing, Flynn walked down the steps down to the marketplace, feeling heavy and like she stuck out like a sore thumb. People ran past her, pointing fingers and whispering her title. The title that was everything she was, and everything she wasn't. She waded her way through the crowd, entering the busy Inn. A woman Flynn vaguely remembered as Hulda looked up at her entrance, calling out that it was nice and warm inside. Flynn made her way to the counter.

"Hey, could I get a room?"

"Single, double, or shared?"

"Single, please."

"That'll be twenty septims, ma'am,"

Flynn dug a coin purse she knew had about 90 gold pieces in it. She fished out thirty pieces, handing them to Hulda.

"I said twenty, silly woman." Hulda teased lightly as she leaned on the counter.

"The extra ten is a tip." Flynn shrugged.

Hulda looked pleasantly surprised, pocketing the gold. "Ah, I've got a polite one. Good! Well, follow me. I'll show you to your room."

Flynn nodded in assent and followed behind Hulda, smiling wryly at how small the older woman looked in comparison to her.

"Say, you wouldn't be that Ebony Maiden I've heard all these tales about?" Hulda asked over her shoulder.

"Unfortunately, yes. Bask in my glory, peasant." Flynn joked, holding her arms up in a mock display of power.

Hulda outright laughed, shaking her head. "Well, it's an honor to have you in my Inn. Don't break anything, though. Here's your room, and the key. Room's yours for a day, unless you pay me for another night."

"Thank you, ma'am."

Hulda nodded, pressing an old, steel key into Flynn's hand before walking back down the hallway. Flynn stared down at the key for a very long time, not moving at all before she slowly shoved it into the lock. Unlocking the door to the room, Flynn tossed her bag on the ground. The bag made a dull thump as it collided with the ground, all the glass bottles inside jangling against some stray weapons and clinking together quietly. Rolling her shoulders, Flynn figured it was due time to take off her armor. It took a lot of wriggling and twisting, paired with a lot of unclasping, but she managed to get her armor off, throwing it against the wall. She listened in muted delight as it made a horrible bang against the wall and someone on the other side yelped in alarm before cursing loudly. Chuckling quietly, Flynn flopped on the soft bed clad only in her brassiere and lady briefs. Sighing, she scrubbed her face, considering whether or not she should let her hair loose. Sitting up, Flynn opted not to and let her bare feet touch the ground.

She stood up and began to stretch, feeling several joints pop. Dripping deeply from the pitcher of water left on the nightstand, she rummaged through her bag in search of some decent clothes. She pulled on some pants, a loose, white shirt, and a pair of buckled, ankle-high shoes. Wiping herself down with the remaining water in the pitcher with a soft cloth, Flynn fixed her braid and made herself look somewhat presentable. Sighing, she sat on the chair next to her bed, staring at the wall for what felt like forever. 'Should I go see Eorlund? Maybe it'd be nice to say hello, even if he doesn't know who I am. I liked him.' Flynn mused to herself, tilting her head to let her neck crack. 'Maybe I could check on both Vilkas and Farkas while I'm over there. See how they're doing.'

She wasn't that important anyway.

Rubbing her eyes tiredly, Flynn knew she was being ridiculous. Ever since Orgnar had talk to her last night she'd just been so….well, that wasn't important now, was it? No one could really tell anyway, or so she hoped, at least. The Jarl could eat his words for all she cared, and either way, she was pretty okay. She was in Whiterun, not in Riverwood. Not staring into Orgnar's deep, brown eyes as he made her feel so…

Vulnerable.

The word left a terribly acrid taste in her mouth. Wrinkling her nose, Flynn shook herself, pushing all her thoughts far into the back of her mind. Slapping her own cheeks, Flynn rose to her feet and donned her long, black cloak. Eyeing the small holes along the bottom of it, Flynn frowned. She'd need to sew it back into it's former glory sometime soon. She pushed the buttons through the slivers in the fabric, pulling the hood outside of the fabric. She went to leave before she backtracked, stuffing a finely sharpened elvish dagger into her boot and clasping her bag on her hip again. Better safe than sorry. She didn't glance at anyone as she left, and no one glanced at her (even though she towered over literally everyone). It was almost weird to suddenly be utterly invisible again. It was nice too. Perhaps she should leave her armor off more often. It'd be good for her.

"Did you hear? Apparently, the Ebony Maiden has come here! She's even staying in this Inn!" An excited teenage girl tittered to her uninterested companion.

"So? Whatever, she's probably not that amazing." The teenage girl's companion, a boy of similar age, commented, sniffing.

"What makes you say that?" The girl furrowed her eyebrows, leaning towards him.

"Uhh, she's a girl?" The boy listlessly picked at a scab on his arm.

Flynn frowned, striding near the table.

"What does that have to do with anything?!" The girl demanded hotly, leaping to her feet in outrage.

"It's just how it is; girls are always weaker than boys."

Smiling to herself, Flynn got an idea. Flicking a small blue light towards the girl, and a small orange one, she bended the girls will slightly and whispered into her head, 'punch him with all your strength' before breaking the charms and watching. The girl wasted no time in drawing back her fist and hurtling a nasty left hook on the boys cheek. The boy reeled back as the girl looked surprised, gaping at her hand.

"What the fuck, Angie!?" The boy yelled, swatting at his friend.

'Angie' looked at her hand, and back up at her friend, a giddy grin breaking out on her face. "Girls aren't that weak, are they, Marcus?"

'Marcus' rubbed his nose, cracking his jaw. "Apparently. Dibella's tits, you can throw a strong punch!"

"No hard feelings?" Angie asked her friend, shyly holding out a hand to him.

"You put me in my place. No hard feelings." Marcus nodded, taking her hand.

Flynn huffed a laugh, shaking her head as she walked out the tavern. Skyrim people and their roundabout way of bonding and ass-backwards displays of supposed friendship would never cease to amaze her. She pushed her way through the throngs of people in the marketplace, waving at Fralia Gray-Mane. Fralia looked confused at the wave and waved back in a questioning fashion. Flynn just shook her head and made her way upstairs, taking a right at the dead tree. She stared up at Dragonsreach as it seemed to loom above her for a long moment, frowning. Shaking her head, she crossed the threshold of Jorrvaskr, gazing at the wooden doors. Sighing, she left the doors alone and walked towards the Skyforge. Hearing the racket of two people sparring, Flynn peered around the wooden wall to see two people who looked like a copy of each other going at it with a warhammer and greatsword.

They looked awfully familiar, and after a heartbeat it clicked that the two men were Farkas and Vilkas. Her eyes landed on the twin with shorter hair. Ah, that was Vilkas, she was sure of it. She smiled a little; Vilkas had made a great recovery. It was nice to see some meat on his bones. Flynn shook her head, deciding it was stupid to bother them in the middle of a sparring match. She'd save them for later when she could properly inconspicuously inspect them to make sure they were alright. Inwardly, she cursed herself for caring so much for two people who probably didn't remember her existence, but then again, she couldn't blame herself. She'd saved both their lives; she'd have to forgive herself for having some residual worry for them. Mainly, it was Vilkas who she wanted to fuss over; she'd mothered him for 4 days or so. She frowned as memories of him crying in his sleep (mostly because of his deliria) and being utterly vulnerable dredged themselves up from wherever they'd been hiding. Poor dude didn't have an idea what had been happening half the time; he was too sick and traumatized to really function at that point in time. However, he seemed okay now, judging by his excellent fighting. Pulling her eyes from the sparring, Flynn sighed and strode away before she ascended the stairs to the Skyforge, every step suddenly feeling heavy. Caught in her own stupor, she didn't notice the red-haired woman staring intently at her retreating form.

Aela frowned as she came upon Jorrvaskr, fresh from a job, and saw an enormously tall Redguard woman peeking around the wooden wall at the training yard. The racket of two sparring people reached Aela's ears, so she figured the woman was watching whoever was training. She went to call out to the woman, but stopped herself and slowly closed her mouth. Something about the woman was...strange. She didn't look like a normal gawker; something about her was screaming she was different. Leaning against the stone wall a safe distance away, Aela pursed her lips in thought. It clicked. The woman had the stance of a warrior! Perhaps she was there to join? They were in need of new blood. But then...that wasn't all of it. Something about this woman was still nagging at her. She was presumably staring at the two sparrers, but with a gleam in her eyes that almost looked like...affection? Concern? Aela settled on motherly concern, which made absolutely no sense to her. Last she checked, she hadn't seen this woman anywhere near Jorrvaskr; so she probably didn't know any of their warriors.

The woman's eyes flitted between the two sparrers and- her eyes. Her eyes. All the way from where she was positioned, she could see that they were silver. Hircine's hairy balls, was this woman another werewolf? The wolf in Aela huffed in interest, uncurling from it's rest. Feeling a part of it latch onto her, Aela looked at the woman again. The word "safe" rang in her head. Alright, this woman was clearly not a threat, but that posed a new question; why was she sure the woman was safe? What was her wolf telling her? Had the Redguard helped Aela in the past? No, she was sure she'd remember someone as freakishly tall as this woman. It suddenly hit her. She did remember this woman. Pelagia farm came back to mind and Aela nodded to herself. This was the woman who'd withstanding that giant's blow and thereby saved Farkas's ass once- no. No. Aela's entire body screamed at the word wolf in her snarled. Not once, then? The wolf in her huffed in assent. Twice? The woman had saved Farkas...twice. What had been the second time?

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Aela was sure she had been staring at this woman for an awkwardly long time, but she was too mentally occupied to drag her eyes away. Her mind whirled in search of what was just slipping out of her reach. Farkas had been telling a story to their newest recruit, Ria, just the other night. The story of how a tall, beautiful Redguard woman had saved his ass so long ago. Why was she thinking about that story? The wolf in her growled, and Aela had the profound urge to hit herself in the head. What piece wasn't connecting? Farkas had told the story of a tall, pale-eyed, long-haired, thick lipped, beautiful...Redguard. Redguard. This woman was a Redguard. A Redguard with long hair, thick lips, and silver eyes. A startlingly tall and strikingly beautiful Redguard. Aela nearly stumbled backwards. This was the Redguard. Holy shit. She was a fucking moron. Ysgramor's mighty axe, and she had been calling Farkas the ice-brain. This Redguard woman had saved one of her packmates.

One.

The wolf in her raised it's hackles. Aela's heart sank.

Not one...two? Two?!

Who else did this woman save?

Her mind whirled between her packmates. Farkas was out of the question; he'd already been saved. Skjor or Kodlak? No. No, no just thinking their name felt wrong. No, it was- Vilkas. This woman had saved Vilkas . When? How? Why? Aela remembered the woman's words vividly from their brief encounter, merely because of how utterly strange the woman had been. She'd only been in Skyrim for under a week or so and had survived Helgen, thereby fended off a dragon, withstood the blow of the giant for someone she hadn't even known, and didn't even tell them her name. She'd occupied Aela's mind long after they'd met, plaguing her with the nagging suspicion that she'd been the one who'd saved Farkas from the Silver Hand, which was just kind of proven true-oh. Oh fuck.

Oh fuck . This woman knew. Knew about Farkas! Shit! Fuck fuck fuckety fuck. Aela forced herself to relax. What happened to Farkas had happened over a year ago, and their secret hadn't been spilled yet. It was probably fine. Probably. She was getting distracted. This was about Vilkas. This woman had saved Vilkas at some point this year or the last, since that was the timeframe she'd been in Skyrim so far, unless Vilkas had briefly left the country without telling anyone before returning, which was the exact opposite of something Vilkas-y. The only time she could think of Vilkas getting seriously fucked up was two months ago, after he'd been held captive for about three weeks at Fellglow-

Fellglow.

Fellglow, Fellglow, Fellglow, Fellglow, Fellglow, FELLGLOW!

The wolf in her was howling.

Aela felt herself pale.

She'd spent weeks tearing up Skyrim in search of Vilkas, and he had been held captive in Fellglow. Supposedly, the Ebony Maiden had freed all of the prisoners there, and had taken special care of Vilkas since he was the most fucked up. She'd even carted Vilkas to the city herself, dropping him off at the gate. Vilkas had been addled for a while after Fellglow; and once he'd gotten his head screwed on correctly he'd described his savior as a very comforting presence, but since his eyes had been fucked up at the time, all he could really gather from her appearance was that she had long, dark hair, and was either a dark-skinned Nord like Vignar, or a Redguard. Everyone had latched on to the Nord idea, but now... This woman matched his description, as vague as it was. If she had saved Vilkas, it was likely it had been that occasion (as that instance was the only near-death situation she could think of Vilkas having), and thereby it was very likely that she was- holy fucking shit. Holy fucking shit. This woman was theeverloving motherfucking Ebony Maiden .

Not only that, but more importantly, she'd saved Farkas and Vilkas's lives! If not for her, two of their strongest members, and two of her packmates would be dead. The fact hit her with startling heaviness, and Aela felt her chest tighten. Ysgramor's beard, the Companions truly owed her a huge debt! Aela's feet froze to the ground when the woman sighed and turned in the direction of the Skyforge. Several heartbeats passed before there was the distinct sound of metal clattering to the ground, and Eorlund started...yelling and laughing? Oh, yeah. Eorlund had known the Ebony Maiden prior to her uprise. Oh, holy shit. Eorlund knew the Ebony Maiden's name. Shaking herself, Aela hurried inside of Jorrvaskr. She'd interrogate Eorlund for the Ebony Maiden's name later; she needed to report to Kodlak immediately. She waved at the random members who called out to her, but didn't bother stopping. As she hurried along, she noticed Vilkas nor Farkas were in the hall. Unless they were downstairs, it had probably been them sparring. That would explain why the Ebony Maiden had been watching; she was seeing how they were doing. A quick peek into their rooms downstairs confirmed her suspicions. Bustling past Tilma and shouting an apology over her shoulder, she barrelled into Kodlak's quarters and slammed the door shut.

Kodlak quirked an eyebrow as she entered in a flurry of limbs. "Aela, you normally don't seem so uncomposed. Has someone lost an arm?"

Aela righted her posture, pressing her lips in a line out of embarrassment. "Do you remember how over a year ago a Redguard woman saved Farkas's life from the Silver Hand?" She blurted, striding quickly towards Kodlak's desk.

Kodlak frowned, leaning forward. "Of course I do. How could I forget?"

"And I'm sure you haven't forgotten how the Ebony Maiden nursed Vilkas back to decent health before returning him to us?"

"Aela, I'm not one for beating around the bush, and I know you aren't either. What is this about?"

"Gods, and we call Farkas the Ice Brain! Can't you see what I'm getting at!? The woman who saved Farkas and the Ebony Maiden are one and the same! And she's here!"

Kodlak looked, if anything, surprised at this and rather disbelieving. "Huh. Small world, eh?"

Aela nearly slammed her palms on the table in frustration. "You don't understand! This is the Ebony Maiden! I know it's her!"

Kodlak looked skeptical. "Are you sure it's her?"

"Yes!"

"How so?"

Aela gestured towards her chest where her wolf lied nestled. Kodlak stared at her chest and back up at her questioningly.

"Your...breasts told you?"

Aela screamed in the back of her throat. "The wolf, Kodlak!"

Kodlak's eyebrows raised to his hairline and he cleared his throat. "Ah, yes. Forgive me, all this paperwork has frazzled my brain. If you're certain it truly is her, see if you cannot bring her before me. I should quite like to thank her."

Something akin to frustration flared in her chest. "Do you even care?!"

Kodlak pushed a hand through his hair. "Of course I do. It's just...now, it isn't every day that you hear that the mighty warrioress responsible for continued lives of your packmates it at your door, no less after hours upon hours of paperwork."

Aela deflated a little, and sighed. "I understand. You must be exhausted. Either way, I'm a little out of sorts because of this too."

"How did you come to the conclusion it was her? Was she wearing the armor, or was it something else?"

"If she'd been wearing the armor, I wouldn't have been able to link her to Farkas. When I saw her, she was peering at two people sparring; probably Vilkas and Farkas since neither of them are inside. I thought she looked strange, and I realized she had the stance of a warrior. But something else was still off, and I noticed she had silver eyes. I thought she may be a werewolf, but once the wolf in me took a gander, it declared her safe and not a werewolf. I was wondering why I didn't see her as a possible threat, and I came to the conclusion that she had helped us at some point. I remembered who Farkas described as his savior over a year ago, and it fell into place. She'd saved one of our packmates. But suddenly that wasn't right either, she had apparently helped us twice, and my mind fell to Vilkas. The only time he's been hurt enough in the past year to warrant life-saving was Fellglow. Nothing else seems to fit. The person who rescued Vilkas from Fellglow was the Ebony Maiden. She had obviously saved him at some point. She's the Ebony Maiden. Simple as that."

Kodlak looked impressed, but a sliver of doubt was still visible in his eyes. "Your deduction skills are impressive, Aela, and I'm not doubting your judgement, but until we ask her, we can't be sure. It does not do to rely on instinct alone."

"I suppose you're right, even if my instincts have never been wrong," Aela said moodily, shaking her head.

"That is true. The wolf in you is strong." Kodlak rose from his desk, stretching his back. "Well, perhaps I should get up and meet her myself. Follow?" He inclined his head towards the door.

"Of course. Should we get Skjor?"

"As their forebear, I'm sure he'd be very glad to meet the woman who saved his pups, whether he admits it or not. Will you fetch him while I collect myself?"

"Yes. I'll be back shortly."

Aela hurried from Kodlak's room, barging directly into Skjor's quarters without bothering to knock. Skjor cursed loudly and tripped over his trousers, looking up sharply to see Aela standing there.

"Woman!" He hissed, yanking up his trousers. "I am trying to dress myself!"

"I can see that," Aela eyed him shrewdly. "Back from a job, then?"

"Yes, now leave!"

"Sorry to say, but you can't relax just yet. You need to come with me and Kodlak."

Skjor deflated, sighing. "Can it wait until I'm wearing pants?"

"Hardly. Hurry up, would you?"

"Can you give me a brief synopsis on what all the fuss is about?"

"It concerns Vilkas and Farkas."

Skjor's eyes widened almost imperceptibly at the mention of his pups. "Are they okay?" He asked, a note of rising fear in his tone.

"The reason that they are has arrived here, and I should think you'd like to thank them."

Skjor yanked up his pants and haphazardly tied them before slipping on his shoes. Hurrying behind Aela, they nearly ran into Kodlak. Nodding at her packmates, Aela led the way to the training yard.

"Hey, Ice-brain, Vilkas!"

Farkas and Vilkas stopped short and their heads turned towards them at the same time.

"What do you need, Aela?" Farkas panted, hanging his warhammer on his back.

Aela went to respond, but just then, Eorlund's unmistakable loud laughter sounded from the Skyforge, which was highly unusual unless he'd heard something nice or he was completely sloshed. Before Aela could say anything, the twins trotted off in the direction of the Skyforge. Aela huffed; at least they were going where they needed to go. Turning to face Skjor and Kodlak, she inclined her head towards the Skyforge and followed Vilkas and Farkas.

Earlier….

Finding her feet on the stone landing, Flynn pulled her eyes from the ground and upward. Eorlund looked up from his forge, his eyes landing on her. He looked vaguely confused as he called out to her.

"Hey there, lass. Here to buy something?"

Flynn's heart sank. He didn't remember.

"I, uh…what do you have lying about?" Her throat felt tight.

Eorlund held his hand up, frowning even deeper than before. "I...feel like you're very familiar. You someone important? Forgive me, I'm old. My memory is shit."

She wasn't that important anyway.

Flynn's eyes burned a little.

A gnawing feeling swelled in her heart.

That damn gnaw.

Her left thigh ached.

"No, I'm not anyone at all."

Eorlund tilted his head up, furrowing his eyebrows. "Are you sure? I really feel like I should-" Eorlund stopped short.

The red-hot iron rod in his hand clattered to the ground.

"I'm a fucking moron." He blurted.

Hope began to bloom in her chest. She stomped it down at the start.

And then he said it.

Her name.

"Flynn," He breathed.

Flynn's heart leapt to her throat.

'She wasn't that important anyway' warbled pathetically in her head, and just like that, it was gone. Eorlund remembered who she was. Eorlundremembered.

Her head reeled and she stupidly blurted, "I told you not to yell at the Jarl about Bleak Falls Barrow."

Eorlund looked completely baffled for a moment before what she was referring to dawned on him and his face broke into a wide grin. "I couldn't restrain myself."

They stood in pregnant silence for a moment before Eorlund moved into action, springing towards her with his arms wide forced herself not to stiffen at the hug.

Eorlund laughed heartily, roughly shaking her shoulder. "Gods, woman! I haven't seen you in so long!" He enveloped her in a hug again, laughing giddily and slapping at her arms. "Look at you! You really did it, didn't you!?"

Flynn smiled slightly, scuffing her shoes on the ground. "I guess I did."

Eorlund walked away and sat on the stone wall next to his forge, looking over at her expectantly. She didn't move, rooted to her place above the stairs. Eorlund patted the place next to him.

"Come over and sit, girlie."

Stiffly, Flynn walked towards him, sitting next to him.

Eorlund smiled brightly, clapping her on the shoulder. "So, why have you come to back to Whiterun?"

"I've uh…" Her tongue felt really heavy in her mouth.

She felt so overwhelmed, and so, so happy. She mattered to someone. She- Eira popped into her head. Then followed Alfhild, Ralof, Hadvar, Alvor, Gerdur, Hod, Orgnar, Agni, Carlotta, Ysolda, Moth, Ghorza, Narri, Mjoll, Lod, Ahkari, Wujeeta, Nurelion, Maven, and- there were so many people. So many people she could hardly name them all. She mattered to a lot of people. What the fuck had she been thinking about? Gods, she was such a selfish bitch. Why couldn't she appreciate everything her friends had done for her? She was such an asshole .

Eorlund stared at her expectantly, and she jolted at the realization he was waiting for a response. "I've been all over Skyrim. I just….wanted to come back to where I started."

"Are you going to stay?"

Flynn paused at that, wringing her hands. "I-I...don't know, actually."

"Ah, I sure hope you do. It'd be nice to have someone like you at my side. Looking for an apprenticeship? I'm sure those arms could carry a lot of metal."

Flynn huffed a laugh, and for several minutes she and Eorlund caught up briefly, talking about what had been happening in Whiterun and what she'd been doing. Flynn made a mental note to talk to Danica about the Gildergreen at some point.. She tried not to seem odd, but against her best efforts, Eorlund noticed she was acting weird and frowned.

He prodded her thigh with his booted foot. "What's up with you? Everything okay?"

Flynn laughed breathlessly, pushing her hand through her hair incredulously. "I just- I went to see the Jarl and he said dickish things about me, talking about how I wasn't important anyway, and I thought you wouldn't remember me so-so I was just really surprised! And I'm really happy, which has been a feeling that's made itself scarce lately, so I'm a little overwhelmed."

"Ah, I'm sorry to hear that. Glad I could bring a smile to that pretty face." Eorlund smiled briefly before it faded from his face and he looked over at Dragonsreach, narrowing his eyes. "So, what did that scrawny milk-drinker say?"

"He heard my voice and recognized it, and lamented about how rude I was, how he didn't mourn my loss, and how I wasn't that important in the first place."

Eorlund growled lowly in the back of his throat and tightened his fists. "Why, I oughta-!"

"Leave him be. I shouldn't take it to heart, and besides, I wasn't polite in the slightest to him."

"Doesn't excuse him being a cock about things." Eorlund frowned deeply, scratching his beard. "He really said you, the one who spent days clearing out a Nordic tomb full of bandits, spider, and draugr all for the sake of his Court Wizard's stupid project and survived, wasn't significant?"

Flynn nodded, squeezing her hand.

Eorlund wrapped a meaty arm around her bony shoulders, shaking his head. "I'd kick the shit out of him, but these idiots here need me to fix their weapons and armor. I can't spend time in jail, I'm afraid. But, to me, just saving Ice Brain's ass- Farkas, that is -makes you significant enough for me."

Flynn had a quick mental debate before she decided she ought to tell Eorlund who she was, or rather who she'd become. "He's not the only Companion I've saved."

"Huh?"

"Do you remember how- I think Vilkas was his name -was returned to the city 2 months ago after being taken care of by the Ebony Maiden?"

"Yeah…?" Eorlund frowned at her thoughtfully for a moment before the realization seemed to slap him in the face. "Wait a minute, you're not tellin' me-!"

Flynn smirked. "Can you guess who the Ebony Maiden is?"

Eorlund stared at her, slack-jawed for a long moment before he laughed heartily (and quite loudly), and smothered her in a hug. "Damn, woman! Look at you, with a fancy title and everything! Gods, I can't believe it!" Flynn laughed with him giddily, grasping onto his arms.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Flynn registered that the sounds of sparring from down below had halted. Two pairs of heavy footsteps slowly thudded up the stairs to the Skyforge. Three or four more people followed behind.

"Eorlund, on a scale of 1 to 10, how drunk are you?" A familiar, gravelly voice called up.

Eorlund and Flynn exchanged a look, knowing who was coming up the stairs, and who was probably following his brother. "If Vilkas is there, don't tell him who I am!" Flynn hissed at Eorlund quietly.

"Why?"

"The Ebony Maiden hides her face for a reason!"

Eorlund nodded and called to Farkas just as he came up the stairs, "I'm not drunk, ice brain."

"Then why're you…." Farkas trailed off as soon as his eyes landed on Flynn, looking as if he were seeing a ghost. "...laughing." He finished dumbly.

"This is who I wanted to show you, Skjor." A woman Flynn vaguely remembered having a name that started with an "A" gestured in her general direction.

With a jolt, Flynn realized the redhead was referring to her.

A bald man with one cloudy eye looked over at her, striding towards her and Eorlund while Farkas stood frozen in place.

"You the one responsible for saving Ice brain and Vilkas here?"

Flynn's heart leapt to her throat. How in the name of Oblivion had the man known? Farkas was a no-brainer, but Vilkas-!

The man's eyes.

They were silver.

Silver.

"Me? I think I'd remember this woman helping me." Vilkas shifted his weight to one leg as he crossed his arms skeptically.

"Not my fault your eyes were impaire-"

Flynn looked sharply towards the redheaded woman who'd begun to speak. The redhead seemed to notice this and stopped short. Looking between Vilkas and the redhead, Flynn almost imperceptibly shook her head with wide eyes. The redhead seemed to understand but nonetheless frowned questioningly. Oh, Mara. The woman's eyes were silver too. A white-haired man hung in the back. His eyes were silver too. Flynn's mind reeled.

A whole goddamn pack of werewolves in Whiterun.

"Hello?" Vilkas called impatiently.

"Never mind, Vilkas." The redhead said slowly, her gaze never wavering from Flynn.

"Like Oblivion!"

"Drop it," The woman said sharply, casting a warning glance towards Vilkas.

Vilkas closed his mouth and huffed dramatically, turning away. Flynn tried to ignore Farkas's piercing gaze. His eyes were still silver. He seemed rooted to the spot.

Mara's ass, they were all bloody werewolves.

The bald man crossed his arms. "You going to answer my question, whelp?"

Flynn shook herself. "Werewolves." She blurted, and nearly slapped herself.

'Why the fuck did I just say that!?' Flynn screeched into her head as if she'd have an answer for herself, and continued her internal screams when her mouth disobeyed her mind and continued moving.

"You're all werewolves."

Vilkas sucked in a breath harshly.

Farkas seemed to regain a sense of reality and made an unintelligent noise before he started to bullshit his packmates out of hot water. Flynn held up her hand, silencing him.

"I know werewolves when I see them. It's alright. So long as you don't wreak havoc among the Holds, I won't kill you or let out your secret. After all," Flynn flitted her eyes between each member, "I'm sure there's a reason the whole inner circle of the Companions is composed of werewolves."

Flynn desperately hoped she was right in her assumption that all of these people were part of the inner circle Eorlund had mentioned during their earlier small talk. Otherwise, she was about to look like a fucking idiot. Fortunately, Dibella took mercy on her, since Flynn was right. The older, white-haired man stepped towards her and his lips pulled into a markedly warm smile for someone who just had a random Redguard lady figure out they were a werewolf.

"You're certainly perceptive, aren't you?" He said with an old, fruity voice that vibrated in her ears. "Welcome to Jorrvaskr. For what you have done for my pack, we extend our greatest thanks to you. Would you accompany Skjor and me downstairs?"

"So you can maul me to death…?" Flynn said cautiously, crossing her arms protectively around herself. "Because if that's the plan here, I don't think I want to, man."

At least now she knew who Skjor was. She had a face to pin to the other person who'd helped find Farkas after she'd left.

Aela snorted at her words before chuckling quietly. "Cautious. I like that."

"We're not going to kill someone as important as you, lass. I think Skyrim would notice your absence fairly quickly."

Flynn pressed her lips in a line. Dammit, why were the beans being spilled today? How did this old guy know she was the Ebony Maiden too? Was Ysolda drunk again?

"Why would Skyrim care?" Vilkas said gruffly, looking between the white haired man and Flynn. "I have no idea who this woman is, and frankly, I want to know what you're not telling me."

"Ah, but you do know her, Vilkas." The man said cryptically. "In due time, you'll be told. Patience, boy."

"You and your obscure words," Vilkas grumbled, narrowing his eyes, "I'm not known for my patience, Kodlak."

Oh! This was Kodlak!

"So, you're the one who carried him back to Jorrvaskr?" Flynn cocked her head towards Vilkas.

Kodlak looked surprised, but said, "I don't think I've ever run that fast in my life. How did you know?"

"My friend Ysolda saw you running. She thought it was sexy, by the way."

Kodlak barked a laugh, his chest swelling with pride. "I'm glad someone still thinks I'm good looking, as old as I am."

"You've aged well." Flynn nodded.

Kodlak smiled broadly. "Quite the flatterer aren't you?"

"Quite the contrary, but sure. We'll pretend that's true." Flynn joked lightly.

"Well, let's go downstairs so Skjor and I can discuss things with you."

"Hold on a damned minute." Vilkas interrupted. "How do I tie into this? Skjor mentioned me, and you mentioned how Kodlak took me back to Jorrvaskr two months ago after, well, you know."

Flynn looked quickly at the woman and back to Vilkas.

Feeling viable bullshit roiling in her head, Flynn said, "I was one of the people who healed you when you were returned to Whiterun. I was outside the gates when the Ebony Maiden came by. She had no potions left, so I just gave you one of mine. I'm a good alchemist. I didn't stay long though; I was just leaving Whiterun at the time for business in Solitude. I've just returned to say hello to Eorlund, and now I've been revealed as the one who saved your brother's life from the Silver hand."

Vilkas sputtered. "That was you!?"

"Yes."

"I… I don't know what to say." Vilkas looked utterly baffled. "I've never seen you with Eorlund, either."

"We'd hang out in the Inn," Flynn blurted, freaking out at the lame lie until Vilkas seemed to believe it.

"Well, I suppose then...I can't thank you enough for saving my brother. If you ever need a favor done, come to me." Vilkas nudged his oddly quiet brother. "Hey, thank her, Ice brains."

Farkas's words made her heart leap to her throat. "You're not telling the whole truth, and I don't know why. I won't ask, though. Not now. Either way...thanks."

Flynn stared at Farkas for a long moment, before she nodded and followed Kodlak and Skjor downstairs and back into Jorrvaskr. They led her into the mead hall, where a dark elf looked up.

"New recruit?" The dark elf asked, looking back down at his bow as he restrung it.

Flynn frowned at his bowstring. "That sinew?"

"Yes, actually. You an archer?"

"Ah, no. I can't shoot for shit. However, I know how to make a bow; took an apprenticeship in Windhelm with my friend's uncle for a brief time. Sinew is pliant enough, but too stretchy. Better for short-term. I'd recommend yucca fibres; it's worth the extra gold, even if it's a pain in the ass to string."

The dark elf looked impressed and nodded. "Huh, I'll have to remember that. Maybe you should be Eorlund's apprentice; he's getting old."

"Eh, he's well enough. He's got some kids too."

"You've got a point. You never did answer my question. You gonna join?"

Flynn shrugged. "Probably not."

"Oh. Why are you here, then? Need help?"

"I was just paying Eorlund a visit, and since I've done something for the inner circle, Skjor and Kodlak just wanted to chat. If I don't come back up for a while, be concerned." Flynn wiggled her fingers in a mock display of spookiness before she continued to follow Skjor and Kodlak (the former looking a little impatient).

Once Kodlak, Skjor, and Flynn were in what she assumed was Kodlak's room, she quipped, "I thought the companions was full of elf-haters?"

"Athis has a Nord heart." Skjor responded shortly, sitting in a nearby chair.

"Ah, because Nords are clearly the only capable fighters in all of Nirn, and no minority here is as amazingly capable as you lot." Flynn raised her eyebrows, pursed her lips, and crossed her arms.

Skjor began to sputter, before Flynn made him go oddly quiet as she finished with, "I mean, it's not like the Ebony Maiden is a Redguard, thereby a minority in Skyrim, or a capable fighter. It also is complete bullshit that Redguards are generally described as the best fighters Nirn can offer sword-wise, and High Elves are described as the best fighters magic-wise. Uh uh, no way, only Nords are good fighters."

"Let's not get so political. Today is a good day, is it not?" Kodlak defused the tension, inclining his head towards a chair nearby Flynn.

She sat down and crossed her legs. "I don't see how it would be. Someone easily realized the entire inner circle of the Companions is composed of werewolves."

"I admit, that's disconcerting, but it appears to me that you have past experience with werewolves, no?"

"Three, yes." Flynn responded. "I'm sure you can guess two of them?"

Skjor stopped her there. "Of course we can, but who was the third?"

"This dude named Sinding from Falkreath."

"The child killer?"

Flynn frowned. "It wasn't his fault. Hircine cursed him. He had no control."

Skjor deflated a little, sinking back into his chair. "That doesn't change it, but at least it's explained."

"It's wonderful you have sympathy for our kind, but it's time we addressed the troll in the room. I'd like for you to recount how you saved Farkas and Vilkas, please."

"Why?"

"I'm just curious, Ebony Maiden."

"Right, you lot don't know my name, do you?"

"I'm afraid not."

"It's Flynn. I know all of the inner circle's names, save for the redhead. I know it starts with an 'A''; we met briefly over a year ago."

Kodlak made an odd face at the sound of her name, but nonetheless nodded in understanding. "Her name is Aela. She's the one who figured out who you were."

Flynn frowned. "How so?"

"Something you must understand about werewolves is that we have a strong sense of family, and our instincts hardly ever fail us. Some have stronger instincts than others; Aela's are incredibly strong. Instinctually, she knew you were safe, and wondered why. She concluded that you'd saved not one, but two of our packmates. Skjor nor I have been in mortal peril lately, but Farkas and Vilkas both have. The only situation Vilkas had been in was in Fellglow; the Ebony Maiden was the one who saved him. Hence, you."

Flynn hummed. "I suppose I could see her coming to that conclusion. It's a shame that she's correct; I had this whole persona, secret identity thing for a reason. Believe it or not, I'm not one for attention, but I wanted to be strong either way. Somehow I managed to get recognized, and my ebony armor became my trademark. Without the ebony, I'm just an average person. I like it like that. Anyway, I'm sure you'd like to hear about my heroic, fantastic, amazing misadventures?" Flynn finished her last sentence very sarcastically.

"A mature outlook. Do tell us about how you encountered them both, though."

"I'll start with Farkas. I'm sure you've long since heard about what happened in Helgen?"

Kodlak frowned. "Yes. How does Helgen tie into this?"

"I'm just going to preface this story by saying that Helgen was where I started. I came to Skyrim about four or five days before I came upon Farkas. I was mistaken as a Stormcloak, which was a term I was entirely unfamiliar at the time, and sent to my execution for no other reason than being in the wrong place at the wrong time. I somehow managed to lead a group of 6 other people out of Helgen alive before I came to Whiterun to report to Balgruuf. He, like an asshole, sent me to Bleak Falls Barrow in search of some stupid rock. At this time I had little to no warrior training, so it took me several days. This is a catalyst. Following?"

Kodlak and Skjor both nodded slowly before Skjor said in an awed tone, "You survived Helgen?"

Flynn felt her lips pull into a frown. "I'm lucky I did. I remember my now-friend Ralof helped me out of my binds, I took a dagger from the inn, and I slashed the dragon right on the nose to distract it from killing a kid, who I call my nephew now. I looked it in the eyes for all of two seconds before it screamed something in dragon tongue. It was something like, I dunno, Zu'u fen ni oblaan. Then tried to torch me. When it failed, it flew off. I can't believe I didn't die."

"You remember what it said remarkably well." Kodlak commented, furrowing his white eyebrows.

Flynn laughed, short and loud. "You'd find you don't easily forget what a dragon screamed at you before it tried to kill you. It is strange, though. The words roll off my tongue rather easily, don't you think?"

Kodlak hummed. "They do. Odd."

Flynn shrugged, "It's probably because those words have haunted my nightmares."

Skjor let out a loud breath, shaking his head with wide eyes. "You looked a dragon in the eyes and survived. And you could hardly lift a sword."

"Yes," Flynn confirmed, "I don't know what I was trying to do. All I could think was that I wasn't going to let a kid die if I could do something."

"I suppose that was your thoughts with Farkas?"

Flynn nodded. "Yeah. I should get to that. Anyway, as we left Helgen, I picked up a lot of clothes from the Keep, which is important later. I was returning from Bleak Falls Barrow with the Dragonstone in my bag when I decided to set up camp directly outside of the city out of spite for the Jarl and the Court Wizard. I went out for a walk or something when I noticed what looked like a group of bandits attacking a rather large saber cat. I walked a little closer when one of the bandits noticed me. While they were distracted, that was when Farkas must've seen an opening and attacked them. In the fray of the fight, I hid behind a rock to see if I'd need to intervene. Caution was important because I was still shitty at fighting. The bandits managed to subdue him with a lot of them left dead. I think there were three left. They started deliberately hurting him just to cause pain, so I took pity on him and killed the rest of them off. I figured I'd at least attempt to heal this beast thing, so I pulled the arrow in his hind leg out."

"Ah," Skjor hummed in understanding. "Probably silver tipped. That's why he couldn't change back."

Flynn nodded. "As soon as the arrow was out, he changed back. I realized who he was and tried desperately to keep him awake. I helped him drink a healing potion, and carried him to the nearby river to wash the blood from him. He kind of just clung to me like a mere babe and let me take care of him. I guess it doesn't hurt to say he cried a little; can't blame him either. He nearly died, anyone would be upset. I dressed him in some of the clothes I had picked up from Helgen, and carried him back to my camp. He fell asleep pretty much as soon as his head hit the bedroll. He woke sporadically through the night, and at one point he was kind of coherent long enough to get him to eat. I coddled him until the morning until I had to get a move on, so I placed some wards and runes to keep him safe. Sorry about that, I didn't think that entirely through.

Skjor grumbled. "I was pissed at the time, but now, I'm not so sore. A brief scare is worth far less than the life of my pup, much less the lives of them both. Tell us about Vilkas."

"Pup?"

"I'm their forebear."

"That's...not helping."

"A forebear is the person who turned a werewolf into, well, a werewolf. Forebears and pups have a special bond. Kodlak is my and Aela's forebear, whereas I am Vilkas and Farkas's."

"I see. Thanks. Well, onto Vilkas. His brother is entirely indirectly the reason he's alive."

"How so?"

"Though I didn't really realize it at the time, saving Farkas felt damn good. I wanted to save more people. To do that, I needed to be stronger. It was Eorlund who gave me the final kick, but it was later on that I realized that helping people spurned me to make myself into the Ebony Maiden. So, about two months ago, I was hanging out in Markarth. I rid the city of an entire forsworn conspiracy, and since I had gotten mistakenly jailed in the process, I was a little ticked. I decided it would be a good idea to blow off some steam, so I asked around for a good place to clear out. This kid Erik in Rorikstead pointed me towards Fellglow. I cleared the place out and freed a bunch of prisoners in the process. At the time, however, Vilkas was so fucked up my eyes swept right over him because I assumed he was one of the poor few who'd died. It was only about half an hour later when I was double-checking that I'd realize my mistake. I woke him up as gently as I could, and he flipped out. He was yelling about how I was going to hurt him, and that I should just kill him already. He managed to muster the strength to run a little, but his leg gave out on him halfway up the stairs. To be dead honest, I was a little impressed with how far he got. He broke down on the spot, and I had to soothe him and explain that I was just a wandering warrior and he was going to be okay. Once he realized I was there to help, he let himself pass out. I carried him up and out of Fellglow, cleaned the blood and other gross shit off of him, and dressed him in some clothes I was carrying for my friend Marcurio."

"Marcurio?"

"He's a mercenary in Riften, and a damn good one. He doesn't charge me for it though, because our adventures are fun enough anyway. We travel together a lot, so I usually have some clothes on me for him. He's kind of scrawny, so they fit Vilkas well enough at the time. It was kind of sad how baggy they still were on him."

Skjor frowned. "He looked little better than a skeleton when he was returned."

"I know," Flynn nodded, "I was glad to see some meat on his bones earlier when he was sparring with his brother. He's made a good recovery. I wasn't thinking about it earlier, but he most likely has a scar across his left eye, doesn't he?"

"Aye, he does."

Flynn frowned. "I was hoping it wouldn't scar, but it was pointless hope. It was a very deep gash that I couldn't really focus on in favor of restoring his eyesight."

"You did the right thing. You did a fantastic job healing him, better than the priestesses could've done here." Kodlak reassured her, patting her knee. "If not for you, he'd be blind in that eye."

"Thank you. After I dressed him, I took him back inside and into a comfortable room near the door. I cleaned up the bed, placed him in there, and quickly cleaned up. I had to drag an alchemy lab downstairs. I made some potions and gave him steady doses-"

"-Steady doses? What do you mean by that?"

"Ah. In my travels, I've noticed a difference between people who take time to recover from terrible injuries and those who heal the injuries instantly with potions. Those who go through a drawn out period of healing get better just fine. People who heal themselves instantly still feel residual pain every now and then, which can be a hassle. Can you recall any bad injuries? Does the area still ache sometimes?"

Skjor gingerly touched his head. "I shattered my skull in the war, which is what blinded me. It was healed in about 4 hours, but I was still out of commission. I get terrible headaches sometimes."

Flynn nodded. "Yeah. Sometimes, injuries need to get almost entirely healed immediately to preserve life, but generally, a drawn out period of speeded healing is good. Anyway, for three days he was generally delirious due to a bad fever. He cried a lot and called out for Tilma, Farkas, and you two."

Kodlak and Skjor both looked visibly pained by this.

Kodlak sighed deeply as his eyes creased with worry. "At least he's okay now."

"Yes. I made him eat whenever he woke, which was frequently, and afterwards I would just lay with him and hold him so he wouldn't freak out. After three days, he showed signs of coherency and he was healed enough, so I carted him back to Whiterun. I left him in the care of the guards, and went on my way. Thus ends that tragic tale."

Skjor exhaled loudly, putting his hands on his face. "Gods, now I want to go beat the shit out of both of them and then apologize for beating them."

Kodlak barked a laugh. "I understand; I feel the same."

"Don't beat them, that's destroying my hard work." Flynn rolled her eyes with a small smile on her face.

"Thank you for telling us about this and allowing us to pin a face to our packmates' savior. I know you probably aren't interested, but we would be honored to have you as a Companion."

Flynn frowned, crossing her legs and sticking her tongue in her cheek. "It would be nice to have some stability in my life," She admitted, biting her lip. "I'll have to think about it, though. I don't really know. I have no need of money; I have more than enough. I have no need to work a day in my life, but…"

"But you enjoy working?"

"Yeah. It's nice to have something to do with myself." Flynn clenched her teeth, pressing her lips in a line. "I'll consider it. I'll have an answer by tomorrow afternoon."

"Thank you. You can go if you'd like. I think Skjor and I have some thinking to do."

"Right, then. I'll hang out upstairs and chat with the other members. I'll see if I like them any."

"Alright."

Flynn loosely saluted them and walked right out of the door. An old lady was sweeping a few feet away and looked up at Flynn's exit.

"Oh! Are you the new recruit everyone's chattering about?"

"Depends. What are they saying?"

The old lady laughed lightly. "They were telling me a Redguard was going downstairs with Kodlak and Skjor. That usually only means one thing."

"Huh. Well, I was just chatting with them. At the end, they tried to convince me to join up, so I'm just thinking about it. I don't know, though."

The old lady leaned against her broom. "I'd join. Everyone here is like one big...very messy family. It isn't easy, but you look like the type who could handle this kind of life."

"Why do you think that, ma'am?"

"I've been tending to the warriors of Jorrvaskr for most of my life, love. I know the stance of a warrior."

"Tending to the warriors? You wouldn't happen to be Tilma, would you?"

The old woman looked rather surprised. "How did you know?"

Looking around, Flynn frowned at her slip-up. "Uh, well...ah, fuck it. You seem trustworthy enough. Ebony Maiden? That's me."

Tilma looked startled. "So, you're the one who saved Vilkas from Fellglow!"

"Mhm. I just knew who you were because, well...he cried out for you a lot."

Tilma looked pained at this. "Oh, poor boy. He must've called out for Farkas, Kodlak, and Skjor too, then?"

"Yeah. I figured he was pretty close with them."

"You know, you did a fantastic job in fixing him up. You have my thanks."

"It was no problem." Flynn frowned, peering at the haggard look to Tilma's face. "You mentioned everyone here was very messy. Do you need any help cleaning up?"

Tilma shook her head rather quickly. "Oh, dear, I don't need any help. It's alright."

"I insist. You look tired."

Tilma laughed quietly. "I suppose that's why they call me Tilma the Haggard."

"Do they actually?"

"Indeed. I ought to hit them with my broom."

Flynn leaned over and picked up a spare broom that was leaning on the wall. "You go do that, then. I'll be down here sweeping my heart out."

Tilma smiled brightly. "In all my years here, no one else has ever bothered."

"Well, now someone has. If you won't let me do it, let's at least do it together."

A few hours passed, dusk fell, Jorrvaskr was practically sparkling, and dinner was made and set out. Flynn watched in muted amusement as Tilma chewed everyone out for never helping her with their own messes and praised Flynn's efforts. Tilma sat down and daintily sipped on her tea, sending a pointed looked towards Torvar, who was getting stew everywhere. Flynn sat down next to her.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Tilma inclined her head towards the meal Flynn had played a large part in making.

She shook her head, leaning back against the chair.

"Why not?"

"Not hungry."

Tilma prodded at Flynn's bony sides like Sigrid had done earlier that day, frowning skeptically. "Nonsense. You looked and feel peaky. Eat something!" She insisted.

"I ate earlier today! My friend's aunt made me some thick venison stew. I'm fine, really!"

Tilma pursed her lips disapprovingly. "Alright, okay, and how early was this?"

"...In the morning."

"Like I said, miss. Eat."

Flynn went to protest, but Farkas slowly slid a small bowl full of stew towards her. Something on his face quelled the words on her tongue, and she moodily stabbed her fork into a chunk of potato. Farkas kept looking over as she ate, and she deftly avoided his eyes. He had something to say, something probably important, but she was going to postpone it as much as possible. Farkas sighed and stood. He walked towards her and she kept herself from tensing. To her relief, he walked right past her. But then, he whispered one word. One word that made her freeze.

"Ebony."

And just like that, he was gone.

She looked at the spot he'd occupied for a long time. Well, Farkas knew. How? Why? She didn't know, but she had a feeling she'd find out soon. The rest of the night went by smoothly, and she bid everyone goodnight with a strangely warm feeling in her chest. She strolled down the cobblestone pathway while the cold night air numbed her nose and swirled in her lungs. A few people milled about, mostly couples lost in their own worlds with their lovers. Smiling slightly, she made her way into the warm inn, ordering two bottles of mead; Honningbrew and Black-briar, just because she could. She stuffed them into her bag before she keyed into her room, and stopped short. There on her bed sat Farkas, holding her helmet. He looked up at her entrance.

"I'm not an idiot, Flynn."

Her heart leapt to her throat.

Farkas stood up, putting her helmet on the end table. He strode towards her, closed the door, and...hugged her tightly. A little befuddled, she wrapped her arms around him in return. To her slight horror, he began to shake and she could feel wetness staining her chest. Feeling incredibly uncomfortable, she pressed her nose into his hair and kissed his forehead, rubbing up and down his back. She had absolutely no fucking clue what she was doing, so she just let herself slip into comforting mother mode (as Haming and Marcurio both liked to refer to it as) and soothed Farkas as best as she could. After a few minutes, Farkas's body-wracking sobs died down and he pulled away. His face was all pink and puffy and he wiped furiously at his eyes. Pulling his hands away, she gently wiped the tears away herself.

Keeping her hand on his stubbly cheek, she asked,"Now, tell me. Why are you sobbing into my chest?"

She was pretty sure she could guess why, but it didn't hurt to ask.

Farkas looked incredulous as he breathed out. "You saved not only my life but my brother's , and you're asking me why I'm crying?"

Flynn smiled lightly. "Alright, just confirming. C'mon, let's sit down." She gestured towards the bed.

Farkas nodded, stiffly sitting down on the mattress.

"Black-Briar or Honningbrew?" Flynn asked.

Farkas looked startled. "What?"

"Mead. Which do you prefer?" Flynn swirled the two cold bottles she'd pulled from her bag.

"I-uh, Black-Briar?" Farkas replied, looking like he was at a loss.

"Okay, nice. Don't tell Maven if you see her, but I prefer Honningbrew."

Farkas made a weird face as if he wasn't expecting the conversation to take this turn when she handed the bottle of Black-Briar mead to him. "Honningbrew is too sweet for my taste…?"

Flynn laughed at his expression. "I prefer sweet drinks; I like wine more than mead." Putting a hand on her cheek, she said, "You weren't expecting this, were you?"
"I was kind of expecting a chat about, y'know, important and mature adult stuff like how I owe you a life debt and shit...and we're already drinking together."

Flynn shook her head as she popped the cork out of the Honningbrew mead bottle and took a long swig. "I'm not one for life debts, love. Don't worry about it. If I actually cared about those, half of Skyrim would owe me their life by now."

Farkas obviously had no idea how to respond to that and picked at the cork in his bottle for a while, not meeting her eyes.

Finally, he burst out with, "Please join the Companions!"

Flynn nearly choked on her mead and coughed after she swallowed harshly. "Morwha's throbbing vagina, you'd think you were asking me to court you with how you said that."

Farkas blushed bright red to the tips of his ears.

He opened and closed his mouth like a fish for a moment before he choked out in a high-pitched voice, "Morwha's...throbbing vagina?"

Flynn burst into laughter, shaking her head. "Sorry. Hammerfell curse. Kind of the more inappropriate version of Dibella's tits. She's the Redguard fertility goddess, and she apparently has four arms so she can grab more husbands. She just sounds like she has a pregnancy kink to me."

Flynn laughed incredulously. "Okay…!" He held his hands out in a helpless gesture, shaking with awkward laughter. "Alright…" He trailed off, staring at the bottle of mead clenched in his hand.

Leaning over, Flynn slowly uncorked the bottle and pushed it towards his face. Eyeing the swirling mead inside, Farkas blinked before he suddenly chugged half the bottle. Flynn watched in amusement as he rubbed his face, shaking his head.

"You...didn't answer my question."

Flynn frowned. "You'd like me to join?"

"Of course!"

"Why?"

Farkas pressed his lips in a line. "I just-! Since you, y'know, saved my life and all, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. You just...there's something about you that makes me want to stay by you. And not only that, but you saved my brother. You're a hero, and Skyrim needs that. And you're the godsdamn Ebony Maiden! That's amazing! We need new blood, we need someone like you."

Flynn leaned closer to him, sighing. "You want me to stay, because you just have a feeling?"

"Yeah! I know that sounds stupid, but I-"

"Can't really explain it?"

Farkas deflated. "Yeah."

Flynn looked at the ceiling. "I suppose...I've been all over Skyrim. I've made myself into a badass warrior, someone strong. My goal is complete. I've seen everything Skyrim has to offer, but I...haven't really stuck around anywhere. Maybe it'd be good for me to have some stability in my life."

Farkas looked at her hopefully. "Is that...a yes?"

Flynn sighed, rubbing her face. "It is. I'll join up."

The huge beaming grin on Farkas's face set her decision in stone. She went to speak again, when the sound of two very familiar voices sounded down the hallway.

"FLYNNIGAN SOMETHING-SOMETHING, I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOUR FULL NAME IS, SORRY, BUT I SWEAR ON SHOR'S HAIRY BALLS THAT IF YOU AREN'T SOMEWHERE IN THIS INN, I AM GOING TO TEAR APART SKYRIM IN SEARCH OF YOU SO I CAN KICK YOUR SORRY ASS!"

"YEAH, WHAT CARLOTTA SAID!"

Flynn felt herself go cold.

Fuck, I forgot about Ysolda and Carlotta!