A/N: First of all, thank you to those who read the new chapter after so many years. My biggest thanks for the first person to leave a review after almost five years, saying they've been waiting for an update. Since it was a guest review I couldn't thank you in person, but let me just tell you it really means a lot.


Farkas sighed deeply and his hand tightened on his mug of mead. They were back at Jorrvaskr, and in the midst of a feast in honor of the former and the new harbingers, he was feeling a blunt pain pressing against his temples. Runa did a number on him when she named him to be the harbinger, and he was even more surprised when the others applauded the idea. He wasn't sure he was good enough for the task appointed to him, but he'd do all he had to date: trust in his friends, and support them in any way he could. His gaze travelled to a darker corner of the hall, where the priest of Mara was sitting in silence, away from the rowdiness of the feasting Companions. The elf's eyes were trained on the central part of the table and when Farkas followed the man's line of sight, he wasn't surprised. Runa was there, her bright face smiling, eyes flickering as if they were reflecting the flames dancing in the long hearth of Jorrvaskr, her coppery hair flowing freely down her back as she laughed at something Athis said.

She must have felt the priest's gaze upon her, for she turned her head towards him, her laughter dying down, and giving way to a delicate smile. To Farkas, his sister's face was an open book, vulnerable in its unguarded display of emotion and he was struck by the contrast of the image before him: a young, beautiful maiden with her soft features and pale skin gazing with such tenderness at one much older, solemn, with a perpetual scowl on his dark, angular face; they were like a fast, murmuring creek shining in the morning sun and a deep, underground river, its lazy current pushing slowly though the dark. Erandur was a guarded man, and so Farkas didn't know much about him, but he was good at reading people and felt there was a darkness in the priest's past, fearing that such profound sadness could mar his sister's face as well before her fate was fulfilled. The dunmer didn't hold Runa's gaze nor did her return her smile, instead he averted his eyes to look down at the book in his lap; Farkas could see how in an instant her face fell and hated how her shoulders slumped as if the giddy mood of barely minutes before was sucked out of her. She turned back to Athis and smiled at him, but Farkas could see it looked forced.

The feast lasted until late but eventually all the Companions left to get some rest at the sleeping quarters with exception of Torvar who was snoring with his forehead on the table among the cups. Farkas wanted to retire as well, but a sudden movement made him stop and as quietly as he could, he stepped back behind one of the pillars. Runa slowly walked towards the priest of Mara and stopped so closed to him their knees were almost touching.

"It is late." He heard her say. "Shall we get some rest?"

"You go on." Replied Erandur.

Runa nodded.

"Will you come later?" she asked and Farkas, a seasoned warrior, felt something steer deep inside him at the hopefulness he could hear in her voice.

"No." the priest shook his head, and Farkas cursed inwardly. "Enjoy the comfort of being able to have the quarters for your own, you deserve it."

Runa bit her lip before replying.

"I sleep better with you around. Even by the fire in the wilds." She said so quietly Farkas could barely make out the words.

"You needn't fear anything here." Erandur's voice betrayed no emotion. "You are safe, among friends."

"I… Goodnight, Erandur." Said Runa with a sigh, and left.

Farkas waited until he could hear the heavy door close and the faint echo of her footsteps in the Jorrvaskr underground before he decided he'd had enough.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked angrily, his hands balled in fists as he approached the dunmer.

"I do not understand your meaning." Erandur's calm, leveled tone only served to infuriate the harbinger further.

"You were so distraught when you hurt her." Spat Farkas, "And I thought you learned. But it seems like you only keep hurting her."

"I'd advise for you to stay out of what doesn't concern you."

"My sister is my concern!" growled Farkas, grabbing the priest's robe and lifting him off his chair.

"Let go of me." Erandur's face remained impassive. "She wouldn't want us to fight."

Farkas closed his eyes, taking a deep breath a doing his best to calm down. After a long while, he released the elf and took a step back.

"You are right." He said slowly. "I just don't understand. Runa doesn't let many people to get close to her, but she let you. She cares about you."

"She is very young." Replied Erandur, his eyes downcast. "And burdened with a destiny too heavy for one of her age. Yet, she is facing it head on, for your sake, and mine, and all of Skyrim. I swore I'd protect her, and I will."

"Bloodshed doesn't agree with Runa." He continued. "And as much as it pains me to say it, it is good the burden of a dragon soul fell upon one such as her. It will be painful, but she will not misuse the power she has for personal gains. Still, she needs someone to lean on, and for some unfathomable reason, fate has given me this role to play. She relies on me, and feels close thanks to our mutual trust, but that's all that is."

Farkas snorted and Erandur looked at him in surprise.

"For a priest of Mara, you know little of love, elf."

Erandur's eyes narrowed angrily.

"Do not presume you can lecture me about love." His voice was low now, akin to a growl. Flames erupted from his palms, flaring furiously.

"I am not like you." Blood-red eyes were piercing Farkas, who watched in amazement as the stern, calm dunmer completely lost his composure. "I killed many in the past, but not for honour, like you and your kin. I killed for a deranged daedric prince, and reveled in it. I brought torment upon innocents and villains alike, stripping away their sanity, piece by piece, to satisfy the hunger of the one I served, and I served with zeal and devotion. When I turned to Mara, I taught myself not to feel deeply. I kept striving for serenity for years, but the man that attacked your brother, that burned your sister – this is who I am, deep down. I need to keep my inner self on a tight leash now, and keep my distance for the sake of control, for if my past self emerges again and hurts her, that is the one thing I will never be able to forgive myself. Is this the kind of man you want to be close to your sister?"

Farkas pondered the priest's words for a long time, gazing at the dying flames of the hearth.

"I was wrong, and I apologize." He said eventually and looked at Erandur with a pensive look on his face. "You love her, don't you?"

"I… Perhaps. I do not know."

"Oh, you do." Farkas rose to get a flagon of mead from the table and poured it into two mugs. Wordlessly, he handed one to the elf and waited until he took a hesitant sip.

"As for your statement," he continued, "The kind of man I'd want for my sister is one who is strong, kind, honest enough to admit when he'd made a mistake, and humble enough to right his wrongs. One who'd stay by her side, even if the world was about to break."

"But what I want doesn't matter, does it?" he laughed quietly. "Runa might be sensitive, but she's stubborn as a mule. The only thing that matters is what she wants."

"Do not jest." Erandur took another sip of mead. "Even if she… this would never work."

"Why?"

Erandur looked straight at Farkas, a somber look on his face.

"Do you know how long my kind lives?" he asked, and sighed when the man shook his head. "If your friend Athis becomes the harbinger one day, he'll likely be the longest reigning one. An average dunmer can live up to two hundred. Ones gifted with magic, such as I, live much longer, their lifespan extended by the strength of the power within them. My magic is no match for the masters of House Telvanni from Morrowind, but I likely have two, three more centuries ahead of me."

"Even if I were a good man you wish me to be, and even if Runa really…" he paused. "Do you think I'd want to resign myself to watching someone I loved grow old and die long before me, and go on, always remembering what I'd lost? No. I will spend the rest of my days in penance for what I had done in the past and hopefully, before my time comes, I'll have earned a measure of forgiveness."

With that Erandur rose from his seat and set the mug on the small table.

"It is late, and we both need rest." He said. "I apologize for my behaviour. I have said too much. I trust you'll mention nothing to Runa."

He started walking towards the stairs, but Farkas' voice stopped him.

"You may be dead tomorrow, and so can she. If that happened, would you have no regrets?"

Farkas could see a slight tension in the priest's posture, but the elf said nothing more. The newly appointed harbinger watched him disappear down the stairs and sighed heavily.


Erandur walked downstairs to the living quarters. He wanted to go straight to the common room shared by warriors from outside the inner circle of Companions, but instead his legs carried him to a closed door further down the hall. Since Farkas moved to the harbinger quarters, Runa inherited his old room and Erandur smiled remembering how she laughed and said she'd always wanted a room with her own bar. He put his palm against the wood as if he silently wanted to wish good night to the one that slept within, but suddenly he heard a sharp intake of breath followed by quiet sobbing. What he did next was an action borne of pure instinct, stronger than reason, as he couldn't bear to hear Runa cry. He opened the door and closed it behind him quietly. The room was lit only by one candle, but he could make out Runa's silhouette on the bed. She was sitting in the corner, her arms encircling herself in a futile attempt to calm down, shaking, and the sight was more than he could bear. He knew what the nightmare must have been about. Always the same – Alduin.

Just this one time, Erandur thought, as he walked towards the bed and sat down next to her. Immediately, Runa's head snapped up and she threw her arms around Erandur, latching onto him to find comfort. Slowly, hesitantly he returned the embrace.

"Shhh….." he whispered. "I'm here."

"Don't go."

"I won't, neleth." he reassured her, but the word he used made Runa shake.

"Fire…" she whispered, "There was fire everywhere. Everything was burning; Jorrvaskr, and the Gildergreen, Dragonsreach and the farms… He was there, and I could do nothing."

Runa raised her head and moved away slightly.

"I don't want it to be my fault, Erandur." Her voice was quiet, and her eyes shone with tears.

"It won't be." He replied, his hands cupping Runa's face. "I know you. You are stronger than you know, much stronger than me. You will not stand idly by."

Runa put one of her hands on his, and then squeezed it. Her face hardened and she was no longer crying; instead, her eyes shone with inner fire that made Erandur watch her in awe.

"I won't let him." She said. "Yes, I'm afraid, but I won't let him burn everything."

"I know you won't. And you won't be alone."

"Will you be there with me?" She asked hopefully.

"Yes." He said firmly. "Every step of the way, until this threat is gone."

Runa bit her lip, unspoken words floating in the air between them.

And then?

Erandur couldn't hold the intensity of her gaze; he looked down, unclasping the chain of his amulet and putting it around Runa's neck instead.

"There." He said. "I've been working on it recently; it should help with your nightmares."

"Thank you." Runa traced the amulet with her fingers and then put it underneath her shirt.

"No need to thank me." Replied Erandur. "Now go back to sleep."

"Will you stay?"

When Erandur nodded, Runa smiled brightly. She curled up in a ball under the covers, placed her head in his lap and sighed contentedly, too sleepy to notice the sudden tension in his body.

"Touch my hair." She murmured sleepily and Erandur's mouth quirked in a small smile, tension slowly dissipating at seeing a little girl emerge from inside the hero of Skyrim. His hand delicately stroked the shiny, coppery locks until Runa was fast asleep. He didn't sleep that night.