Chapter 21

Farkas

*I do not own Skyrim, but I do own Juheena and Juheena owns Farkas*

Farkas sloshed through the melting snow on his way to Solitude. He had tracked Gaius Maro all over west Skyrim, but every time he would arrive at his location, he would have already left. Grumbling, he entered the gates of Solitude and headed straight to the Winking Skeever. He needed a pint. Or five.

He seated himself at the bar and called to the tavern keep, Corpulus Vinius, for some of Solitude's specialty Spiced Wine.

"Right away, my friend." He replied, and came back with a bottle and a tankard. Rubbing his temples, Farkas idly watched the other patrons as he sipped his wine. The wine was delicious, he thought. He would have to bring Juheena a bottle or two. He chuckled to himself, thinking he would probably drink it himself before he got to the Sanctuary.

He smiled at the thought of his lovely Khajit. He missed her. He was so caught up in worrying about her whereabouts, he hadn't noticed a man come and claim the empty stool next to his. He looked up when the man regarded him, "Hey there. Here from out of town?"

Farkas looked at the man. It was Gaius Maro. "Yeah, I am. I'm here to…ah… get a dress for my lady." He lied, but then decided it wasn't a bad idea to do that as well.

The man chuckled. "I wish I could keep a lady, myself. All this traveling around and putting my life on the line drives off women like you wouldn't believe."

"Maybe you should find an orc maiden to follow you around. She sure wouldn't mind it." Farkas joked.

"She would also probably break me." Maro laughed. "It's good to be home. Though, I only have two days before I am off again."

"Ah, I know what you mean. I get sick of traveling all over the damn place sometimes." Farkas replied.

"It's hard working for the Penitus Oculatus. Too much responsibility. Though, I kind of inherited it from my father. Not like I had any choice." Farkas could tell that the ale was loosening Maro's tongue. Maybe he could get something useful out of him.

"I never knew my father too much, he died when I was 11. Even then he was always out on missions and doing work. Now that's what I'm doing."

"What is it that you do, exactly?"

"I'm a Companion from Jorrvaskr. Have been my whole life." Farkas replied.

"Honorable work, form what I hear. I get so tired of the Empire sometimes. I wish I had been born a Nord. Seems more liberating and spirited to me, instead of the mechanical world of Cyrodil." Farkas had hit the jackpot.

"You should stop by Jorrvaskr sometime. Kodlak would like to talk with you." Farkas suggested, while subtly slipping the forged note into Gaius's bag. He didn't notice.

"Oh, I'm sure he would. There's quite a few rumors going around about the Companions, you know. Wasn't one of your own a Werewolf? Arnbjorn, I believe?" Gaius leered.

Farkas visibly paled. This was where his social skills failed him miserably. "Well…uh..that was a long time ago…" He said, fidgeting.

"I also heard that the word around town is that your Kodlak himself is a werewolf. Was seen snooping around Ysgramor's tomb."

"Snooping? Ysgramor is the founder of the companions! We have every right to be there! More than you, you…you..!" Farkas's mind started to cloud with that familiar fog. It was then he realized that Maro was slyly milking him for information just as much as he was. Only Maro had been the successful one.

"Yes? What am I, Werewolf?" He sneered, causing the room to go quiet and heads to turn. "You have been following me, dog. So naturally I did a bit of sleuthing. What I found was more or less…ah… disturbing. So I called in some experts." Maro turned around and motioned for a guard to open the door. Silver Hand thugs slunk in, one by one, surrounding him.

Farkas's heart was pounding. The Silver Hand. Hadn't they already taken care of them? Obviously not.

"You can't prove anything!" Farkas roared at Maro.

"I can't? No need, my friends here can find out for themselves." The look on Maro's face caused Farkas to go into a dangerous rage. The son of a bitch was wearing the smug look of the superior.

"You bastard!" Farkas bellowed, losing control of the fog in his mind. The wolf was coming out to defend its honor.

Farkas started to slump over as a black haze surrounded him. The whole room watched in fear as his bones snapped and reformed, hair grew in thick and dark over his whole body, and his clothes tore and fell to the floor. His razor sharp teeth bared angrily at Maro, who stood still and watched, unafraid of the transformation in front of him.

"I believe I have my proof now." He commented, before turning on his heel and leaving the tavern.

Farkas howled a howl that shook the windows and caused the wine bottles on the shelf to clank loudly. He then descended upon the Silver Hand. He sliced through half of them, disemboweling and dismembering them in a rage. He hurled his claws through one man's face, causing a nasty cracking sound that made a woman in the corner faint dead away.

Snarling and growling, he put up a good fight. Corpulus, who sympathized with Farkas, took out a bow and arrow and started shooting at the silver hand. Once they had been dispatched, Farkas whined a thank you to the tavern keep, who nodded at him, and Farkas bounded on all fours through the door.

Outside, he met with more. Dozens more. He couldn't take them all. He was beat.

The damnable Silver hand cornered him in an alleyway, and shot him with a tranquilizer dart. Putting a net around his limp body, they drug him out of the city and towards their warren.

XXXXooXXXooXXXX

When Farkas awakened, his arms hurt so badly that he groaned in agony. He was held up from the ceiling by two chains around his wrists. His ankles were bound to the floor with shackles. He was back in his human form, naked, and burning up. There was a large hearth in the corner that was littered with large bones. Werewolf skeletons.

Farkas closed his eyes. Juheena….. I love you Juheena, he thought towards her, hoping that somehow she would hear him. The selfish part of him wanted her to be there, so he could tell her in person. But he never wanted her to be in danger like this, or to see him like he was, weak and victimized.

He got into a violent bit of coughing, so loud that a guard came in and slashed at his back with a leather whip.

"Shut up, you damned beast." Then hit him again. Farkas cried out, but held back a plea for mercy. The sadistic bastards would get no such satisfaction from him. Once he quieted down, the guard left, cursing to himself.

He looked around, and saw another person chained up, only in the closet. A Dunmer man. The elf met his gaze before saying, "Sorry, mate. It just ain't fair. I been here for two weeks…"

"Yeah… I'm no stranger to this myself." They were silent for a minute, before Farkas said, "There must be a way to get out of the damnable shackles! Son of a-..." He trailed off when he thought he heard the guard coming back.

When the footsteps turned around and left, the Dunmer said, "I doubt it. I've seen bigger men than you transform and fight and wrestle with those chains for hours. They're solid steel."

Farkas sighed. He retreated into his mind for a few minutes, thinking about being with Juheena. It lessened the pain somewhat, seeing her whiskers twitch when she smiled and the funny faces she made when she sneezed; the silly little things that made up his lover.

It was then he decided, that if he made it out alive, he would ask her to marry him. He wouldn't take another second of his time with her for granted. Farkas wasn't much of a praying man. He was more of a fighting man, solving his problems with a sword or a pint of ale. But now he had a little more on the line.

Silently he prayed to Stendarr, the God of Mercy begging him to have the chance to marry Juheena. He also prayed to Mara, Goddess of Love, asking for the same. She always seemed to make things work out for those who truly loved each other.

The minute he opened his eyes, he knew he would never doubt the Gods again.

There, in front of him, stood Nazir and Babette.

"My, my Farkas. Juheena is one lucky lady." Babette smirked, eyeing his uncovered nether-regions.

"Just get me down." Farkas gruffed, embarrassed. Nazir chuckled and picked the locks around his wrists. He fell to the floor, landing on his knees. Once his ankles were freed, Babette handed him a pair of trousers.

"Let's get out of here, these guys creep me out." Nazir commented.

"Hold on." Farkas said, grabbing the key on the wall and freeing the Dunmer.

"Thanks, mate." He said, genuinely appreciative of the act of kindness.

"I would have wanted you to do the same." Farkas smiled, and then the four of them retreated from the warren of the Silver Hand, passing by many butchered and mangled corpses.

"Ugh…I'm so full I could pop!" Babette whined, holding her stomach.

"Yes, we finished off all of the agents around the docks and on the shores around the Katariah. Babette is going to get quite plump." Nazir laughed.

"Remind me to get a vampire bodyguard." The Dunmer commented.

"How did you know I was here?" Farkas asked.

"We didn't. We were leaving Solitude when we saw some Silver Hand on the road. We decided to raid their camp and diminish their numbers a bit. Lucky you." Nazir explained.

"Yeah, luck." Farkas smiled. "Do you mind if we go back into the city? I need to buy some jewelry."

"Jewlery? What for?" Babette asked, "Juheena has chests full of jewels. Believe me, she doesn't need anymore, contrary to what she thinks."

"Oh, I think she needs this one last ring."

"Ring?" Babette repeated, then gasped. "You're gonna ask her to marry you! By Sithis!" The little vampire jumped happily.

"Perhaps I could set aside my hatred for merriment at mirth temporarily, if only for your wedding." Nazir chuckled.

Farkas smiled to himself, thankful for the Brotherhood. Never again would he think twice about them, and was proud to join Juheena as an assassin.

He was proud to join Juheena in anything. Especially in holy matrimony under Mara.