Disclaimer: I do not own the Elder Scrolls series.

A/N: To clear up any confusion, my Dragonborn is referred to as Recruit, new blood, or whelp in the viewpoints of the Companions. He is still the same person from the previous chapter just to let you know. Speaking of Companions, this one-shot will have a slight spoiler regarding the questline, so read with caution if you would like to keep the surprise. Sorry for any minor OOCness from Farkas, but he was the only one of the Companions I could think of that would do this sort of thing.

The Hood

"I'm going to kill Farkas." thought Vilkas as he narrowly dodged a sword point to the ribs. "That is, this whelp doesn't kill me first." he continued, parrying the second blow and proceeding to bash the said recruit. His venture was fruitless, for the Recruit had just jumped out of range just in time.

"Why did I even agree to his stupid little prank? Aren't I supposed to be the smart one? Someone must have slipped a bit of Skooma in my mead last night. "

It all started last night, just a week after Farkas and the new blood came back from Dustman's Cairn, with a fragment of Wuuthrad in hand, also the same day the boy was officially inducted into the Companions. Even if it was only for a few days, the young man became a little brother of sorts in their family. As anyone can see, he was treated like any other little sibling throughout the world. Said treatments counting being picked on and being the most abused when it came to training.

However, one of the few traits that they noticed of their youngest shield-sibling was that he was always seen wearing a hood, even indoors. This apparently irked Farkas to some extent, who for the past few days was trying to remove said hood, only to have his plans fail or backfire to the others' amusement. An opportune moment came when Farkas and Vilkas was walking past the living quarters of Jorrvaskr, only to stop at the sound of snoring. The brothers went to investigate (for they knew little to no one that snored like THAT), finding the source to be the young rookie himself, sprawled sideways on his cot, still in his hooded robes, surrounded by empty potion bottles of healing and magicka, with Aela looking on with signs of mirth on her face.

According to Aela, the young man had just come back from dealing with a cave full of bears, which was not too far from Ivarstead. He was successful, but not without injury, as evidenced by the mess around him at the moment. Farkas, however, took the time to remove the new blood's clothes with help from Vilkas, then went running off, leaving a confused Aela and a (still sleeping) topless Companion (much to the woman's entertainment).

But as if stealing a man's warm clothes was not cruel enough, waking him up before sunrise to train in the chilly Skyrim mornings was most certainly evil. Farkas took the personal responsibility of kicking the whelp awake, being greeted by the most bewildered look and the expected question on the whereabouts of the hood robes. Farkas's grin must have given him away, as the confused look turn into a questioning glare that looked like it was ready to break a Skyforge Steel sword as if it was made of twigs.

Farkas was quick to divert the young man's cold fury, letting slip that Vilkas was the culprit. The Companion quickly rose out of bed, marching out in the direction of the training area only stopping to retrieve a spare studded cuirass and a an iron banded shield. Farkas was confused;

"A shield? But I thought he never liked shields. Always was going on how they were too heavy and bulky when questioned."

Farkas's question was answered when Vilkas's and the Recruit's sparring match began. At first the young man just stood still, only staring at and flipping his shield over and over, even when Vilkas advanced, sword out. His silence was broken, when Vilkas got in range, just in position to strike at his neck. He looked up, his warm, brown eyes now a cold visage of silent fury, and without warning, tossed his shield like a discus (Frisbee) at Vilkas's head.

Vilkas had brought his shield arm just in time, knocking the spinning metal away, only to be greeted at sight of his opponent, now with a sword in one hand and a dagger in the other, charging at full speed. Vilkas had barely any time to react, taking the full brunt of the attack with shield. Even with his lycanthropy, his arm began to shudder under the weight. Speaking of werewolves, Vilkas came to a somewhat, shocking revelation. A hoodless Recruit is a pissed off Recruit. And if said Recruit was pissed off, chances are he could kill a werewolf… with his bare hands. Which was happening right now, as Vilkas, now disarmed and on the ground, was being violently throttled, and questioned, "No wait, interrogated", on the whereabouts of a certain hooded robe…

MOAR A/N: Sorry for the shortness but its Christmas Eve (kinda working on a Seasonal oriented oneshot at the moment as a gift for you guys)? Also apologies any minor OOCness from Farkas, but he was the only one of the Companions I could think of that would do this sort of thing. :P Anyway Happy Holidays and Happy New Year!