A/N: I am sorry for how long this has taken, but I had a serious case of writer's block, which was made worse by coursework and other school-related things. So here's chapter thirteen.

The silence that followed this announcement was quickly broken by the now all-too-familiar sound of Falin wrapping herself in fire. Vilkas stepped forward, "What are you talking about man? We have no murderers here."

"Well, Vilkas, not calling you a liar or anything," Ram-Ku stepped forward, "But that's not strictly true. Hello Shit-fist, how's your brother?"

"You!" Galmar drew his battleaxe, "You will pay for what you did."

"Clearing some human scum off the streets of Skyrim?"

All the other Companions were looking confused, but it was Aela who asked the question, "Ram-Ku, what did you do?"

"I stopped some random Nord from raping and killing Falin. Didn't realise that his brother fancied himself important enough to set a bounty five times the normal on me. Answer your question?" Ram-Ku sounded almost casual, only the tightening of his jaw giving him away.

"Rolff was a true Nord," Galmar sounded incredulous, "He would not attempt to rape anyone."

Ram-Ku opened his mouth to respond, but was beaten to it by Athis. "Rolff? Rolff Stone-Fist? If that man was a true Nord, then Kodlak Whitemane's a Thalmor. He was scum, hated us Dark Elves, and the Argonians, if he was drunk enough, he would definitely have tried to rape someone, the world is better off without him."

"How dare you!" Galmar blustered, "I will have justice for my brother's death."

Athis continued, "I understand a little about Nordic justice, Stone-Fist. Your brother was killed in Eastmarch, this is Whiterun hold, that crime has no bearing here," he drew his sword and stepped between Ram-Ku and the enraged general, "Any attempt to apprehend Ram-Ku would be unlawful, and I would be required not only by law, but my honour as a Companion, and as Ram-Ku's friend, to stop you."

Galmar laughed, "Stand aside, Elf, I am a true son of Skyrim, you alone cannot stand in my way."

I heard another blade being loosed from its scabbard. "He does not stand alone Stone-Fist." Liedan stepped up next to Athis, "I haven't got the honour as a Companion thing, but everything else this guy said I agree with."

Farkas hefted his greatsword and stepped forward, "I said I would raise a shield in his defence, I don't have a shield, so this will have to do."

One by one, the other Companions, including myself drew our weapons and stepped in front of Ram-Ku, creating a fence of steel between him and the Stormcloak second in command. A few eyebrows were raised when Njada stepped up, "What?" She demanded, "He may well be a colossal cunt, but he's still a Companion and shield-brother."

When faced with said fence of steel, Galmar backed down and cut his losses, as he left though, he through a parting shot at Ram-Ku, "You're going to mess up in this town as well, scaleback, and when you do, I will be on you like a pack of wolves on an elk."

Ram-Ku merely raised a two-fingered salute in Galmar's direction. Once the man had left, Athis turned to Liedan, "So who are you then?"

"Name's Liedan, met Ram-Ku and his friends in a cave on the road to Falkreath, followed them to Whiterun. What's your story?"

"I joined for the honour and glory friend, stayed for the companionship. Ram-Ku taught me to fight better. If you're wanting to join, you'll need to test your arm against either Vilkas or Farkas."

"That'd be the big Nord twins?"

"Aye, just go out into the yard with them."

Liedan left with Vilkas, as Ram-Ku turned to follow them, Aela placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Brother, care to explain why you are wearing the saviour's hide, and the ring of Hircine."

"Hircine?" Njada asked, "What the hell?"

"If I said that I sold my soul to the Daedric Prince of the hunt, and tore apart a group of hunters for him, would you believe me?"

Silence followed this announcement, then, "Yeah, I can see you doing that." Aela.

"Quite easily." Torvar.

"Surprised it took you so long really." Athis.

"Ram-Ku," Kodlak's voice called out, "I need you to take a message to the new Jarl for me."

"Of course, what is it?"

"Tell him, that as he has taken a side in the political conflict, he is no longer considered a Companion. It is harsh, but I cannot allow anyone to bend our rules."

I sucked in air, Vignar had been a Companion as long as I could remember, it seemed as though Kodlak was quite serious about remaining entirely neutral. If I had listened too Liedan rather than Ram-Ku, I would have lost my place in the Companions of Ysgramor.

It took Ram-Ku about twenty minutes to return from Dragonsreach, accompanied by a dark-haired Nord woman who he said was called Lydia, and apparently she wanted to join the Companions. She went out into the yard with Vilkas, Liedan meanwhile, had been accepted into the Companions, and sent off to Eorlund with Ram-Ku's armour to get it fitted properly for him.

"How will did Vignar take it?" I asked him.

"About as well as you'd expect someone being told that they'd just been kicked out of the Companions after years of service, he was furious." Ram-Ku looked almost pleased about this fact, I remembered that he hadn't seen eye to eye with Vignar about the war, and I suddenly had to wonder if he had perhaps, embellished, upon Kodlak's message.

"What, exactly, did you say to him?" I asked.

"Well..."

"Tell me, Ram-Ku."

"I may have told him he was being forcibly removed from the Companions for breaking our vows of political impartiality and neutrality, and I may, possibly, kind of, insinuated that he had less honour than a skeever."

"You said what! He's the jarl."

"Aye, that's what made it funny."

"Are you drunk again?"

"NO! Why does everyone assume that whenever I do something slightly dubious that it means I'm drunk?"

"Because the alternative is simply that you're being stupid."

"All I did, was tell the truth."

"You were completely the wrong person to take that message, you should have at least taken someone sensible with you to make sure you didn't do anything stupid."

"Look, he hasn't thrown me in jail yet, so I'm assuming I haven't done anything illegal." He grinned, "Where's Torvar, we still haven't finished our drinking contest yet."

"You are unbelievable."

He nodded, "That's the general idea, life's more fun that way." He grabbed a tankard off the nearest table and headed off in the general direction of Torvar, most likely intending to get absolutely pissed. I decided that it would probably not be a good idea to talk to Ram-Ku for the rest of the day as he actually would be drunk, and therefore likely to suggest schemes that would get him arrested again. I decided instead to go and speak to Aela about getting a job. For some reason I had an overbearing urge to kill something.

Aela sent me off to Riverwood to kill a bear that had somehow managed to get past the town guards and invade the house of the local bard, Sven. Once I had dealt with the bear, Sven greatfully paid me the hundred and fifty septim price, then asked if I could do him a favour. It transpired that there was a girl in town that Sven liked, and he wanted me to deliver a letter to her for him. I agreed, and he handed me a folded piece of parchment, pointed me in the direction of the girl's house and urged me to deliver the letter swiftly, and then leave as the contents of the letter were for Camilla's eyes only. As I approached the house, Sven's need for secrecy made me suspicious and so I unfolded the letter and read it's contents;

Dear Camilla,

I know I have called upon you at your house many times, and while we may be growing close, I need you to put any desires you may have for me aside. I am a true-born son of Valenwood, and I could never befoul my bloodline by courting an Imperial. I hope we can remain true friends, provided you understand
your people's place in the Aldmeri Dominion, and respect me as such.

Sincerely, Faendal

The letter seemed to be written from someone else, to make them seem like a terrible specimen of mer-kind. I decided to find this Faendal, and ask him what Sven was up to.

It wasn't difficult to locate Faendal, seeing as how he was the only elf in a predominantly Nordic village. When I showed him the letter he flew into a rage before muttering about that was typical of Sven, and could I please deliver this letter to Camilla instead?

Jaded by my experience with Sven, I decided to read this letter before delivering it as well;

My Dearest Camilla,

I yearn to have you as my own,
Washing my linens,
And my fine blond hair,
To cook my dinner from my stove,
And tend to my house while I wander.

Yours truly,
Sven

I was only slightly surprised by the contents, but very annoyed. Were all men like this? Forming petty rivalries over women, and attempting to use underhanded methods to beat their rivals? I decided that it would be a good idea to see this Camilla Valerius and let her know what sort of men were vying for her favour.

I went to the general store, where I found a young imperial woman, perhaps slightly older than myself, who I assumed to be Camilla and an older man who I assumed to be her brother arguing about some ornament that had been stolen from their store. I approached Camilla and cleared my throat. "Excuse me, would you be Camilla Valerius by any chance?"

"Yes, that would be me, why?"

"I have a couple of letters for you." I flicked one of the letters open to make sure that I didn't get them mixed up, "This one is from Sven." I said, handing her the letter about knowing her place underneath the Aldmeri Dominion. She read it, her face getting angrier as she went down the page.

"And you say Sven gave you this? That lying, good for nothing, little shit. I am sure that Faendal would be thankful that you defended his honour."

"Don't be so quick to praise Faendal," I told her, "This letter actually is from him." and I handed her the letter about having to be a submissive housewife to Sven.

"That bastard! Are all males alike? Regardless of race?"

I shrugged, "Honestly, I've probably got even less experience with men than you do. But I think that you probably just got unlucky with the ones that you attracted."

"Well, thank you. If you see either of those arseholes out there, tell them not to be coming round here anymore."

I chuckled, "I think I will do, should be good to see the looks on their faces."

I left the store and headed back to Whiterun, grinning to myself at the thought of what would happen the next time either one of those men tried to put any moves on Camilla.

When I arrived back at Jorrvaskr, I was greeted by a colossal Orsimer woman clad in scarred, green armour, with a battleaxe that probably weighed more than I did slung over her shoulders. She looked down at me disdainfully.

"So who are you? Some wandering traveller hoping to join the Companions?" She snorted, "Like they'd let a milk-drinker like you in."

"Gakken." I heard Ram-Ku slur from inside, "Leave Ria alone, she'sh been Companion-thingy shince before me." He paused, "Sho that'sh a loooong time." I heard him giggle, followed by a massive metallic crashing sound that was most likely a massive lizard-man hitting the floor clad in full steel plate armour. I looked at the Orc.

"How much has he had to drink?"

"I don't even know," was the reply, "They've been drinking since I got here, and that was about an hour ago. I'm not entirely convinced someone as weak-looking as you are really is a Companion, I'll have to go and find someone sober." She turned and went inside, slamming the door in my face. Furious, I kicked the door open and was greeted by the sight of everyone, not just Ram-Ku and Torvar getting absolutely smashed. As I stood there, shocked, a small, bleary-eyed breton man came over to me.

"Hey there gorgeoush, how'sh about a drink with uncle sham?" He hiccuped and offered me a large tankard, filled with a concotion that looked, and smelled, like a mixture of brandy, mead, wine, beer, and any other alcohol I'd ever heard of all mixed together. A small voice at the back of my head was screaming that this was quite definitely a bad idea, but there was something about 'uncle sham' that practically oozed the idea that there was absolutely nothing that could go wrong, so I took the offered tankard and drank deeply from it. It was wonderful!

"By the Divines, that's good stuff. Got any more?" The Breton grinned and produced another tankard, seemingly from nowhere. I took it eagerly and drank again. Having downed the liquid, I looked up at the man , who seemed to be flickering between little breton and massive dremora, but I put that down to the drink, it was certainly strong enough to induce hallucinations. I giggled as the small voice in my head, still screaming that this was a terrible idea dwindled and disappeared, after all, nothing that felt this good could possibly be bad, right?

A/N: Because accepting drinks of dubious provenance from even more dubious Bretons can never go wrong can it. I am looking forward to the fallot, which should be fun.