Author's note: I had some computer issues this month, so sorry for not getting this chapter to you sooner :( I'll make up for it by posting another one in a couple of days :P

Keep your fingers crossed, the twins are finally going to meet their family! 3

The road back had been silent and awkward. Amina and Vilkas had taken turns at talking with Farkas, but very little among themselves. However, as they got closer and closer to Whiterun, they got back some resemblance of a normal conversation. Farkas sighed in relief.

Amina had been turning around in her mind's eye the memory of that kiss, mixed in with Salohknir's own knowledge, and she still couldn't quite explain what had gotten into him. She'd life if she'd say she did not enjoy it, because she did, very much. Her lips still felt a little tender at how harsh he had kissed her, crashing his mouth over hers, and the way he had looked at her then made her insides boil with want. However, when Vilkas had said that the kiss best be forgotten...she'd obliged, yes, but she had also been very disappointed. She couldn't quite understand that feeling either. She hoped their friendship wouldn't hurt because of it.

Or else she might just kiss him again until he pays attention to her. She smirked.

When they returned to Jorvaskrr, there were flowers, lanterns and mead waiting for them. Farkas and Vilkas smiled conspiratorially when Amina asked what it was all about, and the only thing Farkas said was that he had sent word that they'd return on that day because something important was to happen.

Amina laughed at seeing Aela and Skjor in matching flower crowns of maidenhair fern. Ria looked very pretty in her lady's smock crown, and was making crowns on Njada's and Athis' head with some sort of flower-herb Amina had never seen before. Even Tilma and Bree were decked in flowers.

Farkas openly admired Bree's daisy crown and how well it went with the colour of her hair, to which the girl blushed furiously and thanked him, offering him his own. Farkas laughed, and settled on one knee on the ground.

"Will you crown me, m'lady?" he chuckled. Bree's cheeks turned a shade of red unknown before to man, and fiddled with the adornment, almost dropping it down, and settled it on Farkas' head, smoothing out his hair with her fingers before placing it.

Amina turned to Vilkas and whispered: "Since when is your brother so smooth?"

Vilkas arched an eyebrow. "He's not trying to woo her, he's just playing. You forget it's Farkas we're talking about."

"Right. No double intentions."

Farkas gave Bree a brilliant smile, all teeth, and she smiled back.

"Are you positive he's not doing it on purpose, though?"

Vilkas shrugged. "Perhaps, perhaps not. I know for sure he wouldn't mind, but if he's doing it on purpose or not, I couldn't say. Sometimes my brother's whims are a mystery to me."

Amina nodded and bit her lip. "I understand what you're saying. Sometimes he acts as if he's an ice brain, and then the next moment… It's peculiar, to say the last. Worrisome that you don't understand your own brother tho."

He scoffed. "Please. I scarcely understand myself oft times, let alone others."

Amina turned her gaze to Kodlak, who looked quite at ease with peonies in his beard. She smiled at Vilkas, sensing the conversation was over, and went towards the other Companions.

"Who are you celebrating, brothers?" she asked with a laugh, picking up a flower crown from the table for herself. "I thought their season is yet to come?" she asked, rubbing at the dragon's tongue petals sitting on their heads.

"Arcadia has a special garden that grows plants all year long. She has some Ayelid lights that act like natural sunlight and it helps the plants." Njada answered, off-handedly.

Athis laughed. "Njada knows this because she helps Arcadia. I hear her gardens have flourished under our shield sister's green thumb!".

Njada frowned and cuffed Athis on the back of the head. "Oi, it's nobody's business what I do outside the halls. And if it were, I'd tell them myself. You know nothing of privacy, I swear."

"We've seen each other nigh naked while dressing in the dorms, and now you want privacy?"

Amina laughed. "We've all seen each other naked, Athis, stop playing the fool."

"Yes, but Njada's my favourite. I like me my strong nord women." He winked at Njada, who blushed a bright scarlet and punched him the gut, making him laugh and wheeze at the same time.

"As for your question, lass, we're celebrating you." Kodlak was regarding her with a smile, his eyes shining proudly.

"Me? But my birthday's not till Sun's Height!"

Kodlak laughed. "We're not celebrating your birthday, lass. We're celebrating you entering the Circle."

"What?! But I'm…still so new. There are other people with seniority who'd deserve this better than me."

"Seniority isn't what the Circle is after." Aela intervened. "We're after honor, valor, power. That you've got in spades."

"We're also after skill," Skjor said "But you've still got to work some on that. Good guts, poor form half the time. But we'll forgive you it. If only because we heard you're damn good at slaying dragons."

Amina pouted, to which Vilkas said: "It's true, you know. Your aim is true, your reflexes good, you're…insanely creative in battle, and you've got plenty of courage, but we need to work on your form and basic skills. You've not had the time to cement your basics, not with everything that's happened."

"We?"

Vilkas raised an eyebrow. "Unless you'd like someone else to train you?"

Amina put her hands up and laughed. "No, no, I've gotten used to your slave driver regimen, I wouldn't want to have to adapt to another."

Njada smirked. "I'm still not sold on you being worthy of the Circle, but whatever. A party's a party….even if it's when someone's promoted because they're well liked, not well skilled."

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, Njada." Amina frowned, but refrained from saying more. She wasn't in the mood for yet another fight with Njada.

Njada gave a languid shrug. "If it were by me you'd not even be in."

Vilkas growled. "Enough, Njada."

"Woah, Vilkas, testy are we? Displeased I'm picking on your girlfriend?"

Before things could turn sour, Kodlak intervened: "Now's not the time for petty squabbles, children. Keep it to the dormitories if you're inclined to argue." He cocked his head in the direction of the back training yard, and continued: "Leave the flowers and follow me. Yes, even you Torvar, put the mead down for once before I make you."

They all gathered round in the back yard, in two concentric circles, with Amina in the middle. The inner circle was composed of the Circle's members, while the outer was made of the rest of the Companions.

She was smiling from ear to ear, her grin threatening to split her face in two, she was so happy. She batted away her insecurities like flies – there would be time to doubt her worthiness later on, godsdamnit.

Kodlak coughed once, and there was silence. "Brothers and sisters of the Companions, today we welcome a new soul into our mortal fold. This woman has endured, has challenged, and has shown her value. Who will speak for her?"

"I stand witness of the courage of the soul before us." Farkas said, and smiled at her, patting her on her shoulder.

"Would you raise your shield in her defense?"

"I would stand at her back, that the world might never overtake us."

"And would you raise your sword in her honour?"

"It stands ready to meet with the blood of her foes."

"And would you raise a mug in her name?"

"I would lead the song of triumph as our mead hall reveled in her stories."

Amina grabbed Farkas's hand from where it sat on her shoulder and squeezed it tight, smiling at him. Vilkas noticed the gesture and almost snarled, but reigned himself in just in time, and banished the thought from his head. 'What is happening to me?' he thought, but he knew the answer very well. Certainly, he was no blushing virgin, and he knew jealousy when he saw it. He just wasn't prepared to face it yet, nor thought it appropriate. He was a beast, and well…she was obnoxious. He rolled his eyes. Shit taste in women, another thing to add to his pile of bad qualities, aside from a bad temper and fur sprouting from his skin from time to time.

"Just as Ysgramor came surrounded by his captains, and in the fleet of his ships no ship was greater, all as one, so the Circle. The Harbringer is nothing without his circle, as Ysgramor and his fleet were nothing without his captains. However, a Circle is as strong as its weakest part."

The whelps tightened their ranks, and pulled out their swords. Amina whipped her head left and right frantically, but Vilkas placed a hand on her arm and shook his head. She settled then, and calmed down her beating heart.

"Prove yourself worthy to be in our ranks, lass. Who will you choose as your shield-brother?"

Amina then looked at Vilkas with a question in her eyes. She knew that perhaps Farkas was better suited for the endeavor, as he was by all means the warrior version of a Dwarven Centurion, but she couldn't help to whip her head towards Vilkas first.

"Will you be my shield-brother, Vilkas?"

He nodded, and took out his weapon. "Let's do this.". Amina smiled at him, and Vilkas could feel his cheeks heating up, but quickly regained control.

The Circle dispersed, and left were only the whelps surrounding them.

"Break their ranks, and join the Circle!" Kodlak said. "Begin!"

Amina and Vilkas were then back to back, and for a moment there was only silence and stillness as everyone sized each other up. She could almost hear the gears in Vilkas' head turning, devising a strategy that would make the most of their skills and deal with the variety of their opponents' skillsets.

"Amina, do you remember training dummy drill number 17?" he whispered.

"The one with the moving dummies? Yes."

"Same stances, same approach. Got it?"

"Aye."

She smirked. Number 17 was one he drilled so hard that she'd never forget it. He'd devised a mechanism of sliding and falling dummies designed to better her reflexes and prowess with multiple opponents, and for weeks on end she'd left the training grounds bruised, sore, scratched, bleeding and hurting. Only after a month or so did she start getting the drill, and it had been very useful.

And now…they ducked and weaved and danced through their opponents, back to back, and when one struck the other made room and covered them. Vilkas steered Amina's motions with signs she'd gotten used to by now, etched in her memory after so many drills with him. She could understand him, her teacher, what attacks he told her to use, and how only a look in a certain direction was meant to spur her or change their strategy. In that moment she realised why she had chosen Vilkas for this: she trusted him implicitly to guide her in this unfamiliar situation; she trusted his skill and his strategy, his prowess and his mind.

In the end, the ranks were broken, and the whelps were licking their bruises while Amina and Vilkas were left panting, smiling from ear to ear as they looked at each other. They turned to Kodlak, who was smiling proudly.

Everyone settled back in into the two concretic circles from earlier.

Kodlak spread his arms wide: "The judgement of this Circle is complete. Her heart beats with the fury and courage that have united the Companions since the days of the distant green summers. Let it be with ours, so that the mountains may echo and our enemies may tremble at the call."

"It shall be so!"

Everyone shook hands, including Njada, who reluctantly agreed that Amina might just've been earning her keep, and not fluttering her eyelashes all this time.

Seeing the state in which all the whelps were, Bree fussed over them and then ran off to fetch clean rags for them to clean their cuts and scrapes with an indulgent smile on her lips, and Farkas followed suit with a yell of "Wait, I'll help you carry them!".

Amina arched an eyebrow and turned to Vilkas, smiling. When she turned to the rest of the Circle though, she could see Njada glowering at the door as if willing it to spontaneously burst into flames.

Later, they reveled in mead, still wearing their flower crowns. All except Njada, who had said she didn't want to partake in their foolishness, and retreated in the whelp's room, much to Athis' displeasure.

"It's just no fun drinking without Njada!" he said. "Who am I going to brawl with now?"

Amina laughed, and nestled herself between Farkas and Vilkas, who were laughing at an inside joke. Her head was buzzing pleasantly, and her cheeks were redden from all the mead she had drank. The boys exuded an ungodly amount of body heat, and she felt quite comfortable. She inhaled the air around her, spice and sweat and Vilkas' tangy herb-like smell, and she was content. She was home. She yawned, and leaned into Vilkas, raising his arm from his side, and wiggling herself in the crook of it, seeking more warmth.

But Vilkas yanked his arm away from her as if he had been burnt, and when she turned towards him, half-dazed from the mead, half-surprised, and all startled, he snapped:

"What do you think you're doing?!"

"I – I, but…you're warm and I - " she stammered.

"Leave her be brother, she's drunk." Farkas said gently, and made to grab Amina by the shoulders, but she shrugged him off.

"I, what's the problem? I just wanted to hug you."

"Don't. Touch. Me." Vilkas growled, and Amina's lips pursed.

"Fine, I won't touch you anymore. Make sure not to shove your tongue down my throat next time so I can remember it! You stupid son of a daedroth!"

She glared at him, and stood up abruptly, stalking her way towards the bowels of Jorvaskrr. When Amina entered the Whelp's room that she decided to keep as her home, not liking the loneliness of her own room, she thought she heard faint sobbing. But surely, that could not be the case, she though – there was only Njada, sleeping in her bed, and Njada was incapable of any other emotion other than anger, sassiness or haughtiness. And then Njada's shoulders shook, and Amina heard her blow her nose.

"Njada, are you alright?"

Njada whipped her head towards her, her brows furrowed, a sneer on her face, her whole body tense, as if she had been caught in some sort of shameful act. As if crying were a crime and Amina was a guard ready to take her to jail. Her red eyes and blotched cheeks were proof enough.

"Go away!" she snapped. "It's none of your business."

"Are you crying?"

"No.", and she turned with her back at Amina again, curling up into bed. "I just have a cold, and my nose is stuffy."

But Amina was relentless. She sat down at the edge of Njada's bed, and she could feel the older woman tense up, coiled and wound up as if she was ready to spring off and flee.

"It's not a sin to cry, you know." She whispered, gently, and laid a hand on Njada's shoulder, gently rubbing it, trying to soothe her.

Njada sniffed.

"I won't tell anyone, if that's what you're afraid of. And I'm here if you want to talk."

"What does she have that I do not?"

"Sorry?"

"Bree. The servant girl. What makes her so special?" Njada snapped, clutching at the sheets in anger.

"What do you mean?"

"You know very well what I mean! Her and Farkas!"

"That's what's bothering you?"

"It's just not fair! I have been friends with him for years, and I've loved him ever since I saw him, and I've trained as best as I could, first to catch his eye, and then to be the best. I've been fierce, and I've been strong, and I've always been there for him with a joke or a good word, and what do I get? Tossed aside like a rag the first moment some pretty face comes in." She scowled, and went on: "I understand, she's beautiful and I'm not, but I thought that perhaps…Bah! All men are pigs."

"I…I didn't know you felt that way about Farkas."

"What, do you think I go around shouting it?"

"Well, have you ever told him you feel this way about him?"

Njada shrugged. "No, but he knows. He's…kept me at arm's length ever since…he guessed it, or something. It hurt then, but it hurts more now."

Amina nodded. "Because then you had no one to compare yourself to. I can understand."

"What do you understand? You're beautiful. Even if you'd quit being an adventurer today, you'd find yourself an idiot, marry and have children and still be happy. You don't understand, I can't offer that, to any man. I am not good at keeping a house, I'm short tempered with children, and I don't have the looks to afford being that useless around the house. What I know best is swinging a weapon and tending to gardens. And I had hoped…that perhaps that would be enough. For myself, and for whom I loved. But I should've known," she laughed bitterly "that that would never be the case."

"It's not about looks, you know. It never just is about the looks. And I don't think Farkas is that shallow to like Bree only for her face, or her body, or whatever. Bree probably makes him feel in a way that he likes. I…I don't know how to explain this well. But it's about how…two people fit? I guess. And maybe you and Farkas would not be the right fit, but because Farkas didn't think of you that way doesn't mean you have to put yourself down. You just have to look for someone who likes you for you."

"Bah! Empty words." Njada slumped, and looked utterly defeated.

It had been hard for her, , because when the other girls her age were courted already, she was left alone, getting in trouble and fighting with boys. When she was young, her mother would dote on her older sister, who had been the beauty of the village, and braid her hair and invite boys over for her to meet, and Njada had been left alone. Her father had taken her under his wing, yes, to appease her hurt, but only until she would marry. But no one in the village had asked for her hand in marriage, too afraid of her battle prowess, too little impressed with her looks and her temper. They didn't see the beauty in the way her brows furrowed and clouded her face, in the shape of her eyes, elongated and half-lidded, with thick eyelashes and a determined look, in the squareness of her jaw and the protuberance of her forehead, in her lips, pale and too big for her face.

Amina looked at Njada and didn't think her ugly, and the other whelps didn't either, but maybe Njada's bitterness at being overshadowed by her older sister had left her so closed off that she could not notice that she was simply average, appealing and lovely in her own way, but not a shocking beauty as her sister had been.

Njada sniffed. "I had to leave home because no one would marry me, and I'd be too much of a burden for my family otherwise. And now, when I'm on my own, no one would me still." She sighed. "I thought that perhaps, since I couldn't give them a beautiful daughter, I would give them a strong one…nobody appreciates that." She punched the wall. "I hate this! Why can't I ever get what I want?!" Another tear rolled down her cheek.

"Is that what you want tho? Being a housewife to a husband? I think you'd get bored. You'd kill him after a week. Or go hunt bears. Or make the bears hunt him."

Njada laughed. "Perhaps." She sighed again, and wiped her eyes. "I'll get over it. I always do."

"For what it's worth, I think you're pretty. In your own rude, callous way."

Njada punched Amina's shoulder, and she winced. "Spare me the pleasantries." Njada sat on the bed, and crossed her arms. "I'll get over Farkas. He can have his pretty little useless bird. I'll go find myself a man that can handle me."

"That's the spirit!"

"Don't start thinking we're friends just because you caught me in a moment of weakness, you hear me?"

"Never, Njada. Cross my heart and hope to die!"

Njada scoffed. "We wouldn't be so lucky. So, what's got you sleeping in early? Spat with the boyfriend?"

Amina scoffed, and waved her hand. "Vilkas is not my boyfriend, and I'm better off for it. He's moodier than a pregnant woman, and snaps at you like a slaughterfish out of the blue for reasons only he knows. He's a damn troll, that's what he is."

Njada smirked. "I take it as a yes."

Amina growled. "He's insufferable. One moment we're friends, the other he tells me not touch him. As if I could bite. And things were going so well…Ugh, men."

The other woman laughed. "All men are pigs?"

"Agreed. Now let's go get ourselves more mead. We're entirely too awesome to waste away here all night." She swayed a bit when she got up, and Njada caught her by the forearm, smirking.

"I'm not holding your hair if you puke, you drunkward."

Amina laughed.

When the both of them returned, they saw Farkas and Bree laughing softly over a platter of sweet rolls, and Njada made a sound in the back of her throat unlike a whine. Amina shot her elbow in her ribs to get her to gather her wits, and Njada nodded at her and went towards Athis and the rest of the whelps, grabbing a mead cup on her way.

Vilkas was sulking morosely in a corner, no doubt scolded by his brother because of his behaviour, and when he saw her he turned to walk towards her. She crossed her arms.

"What do you want?"

"To apologise. That was uncalled for. Listen, I just…don't want you to get any ideas because of the…incident from earlier."

"Of course. I never had any 'ideas', Vilkas, you're my friend. Or well, I'd like for you to be my friend, if you'd polish up your manners."

Vilkas rubbed the back of his head. "Ah good. Well, seeing as you're still quite…upset, I know what will raise your spirits up and help us…put whatever happened in the past."

"Another quest? Oh Vilkas, you sure know what a girl needs. Let's go grab some mead and you can tell me all about it."

-xx-

The edge of Rorikstead was a nice place to have settled down in. The rolling fields and warm breeze settled their ever-aching hearts some, and seeing something other than the tundra fields of cotton and lavender helped them forget. Even after so many years, when she smelled lavender she saw her son in her mind's eye, bringing her a bouquet of lavender and tundra cotton, smiling from ear to ear. She banished the thought from her head.

She was knitting yet another scarf for the neighboring girl, Sissel. Her fingers, wrinkled with age, worked at the needle and wool, and she thought it was going to be a nice gift to keep the lass warm over the approaching winter. Gods know her father wouldn't care. She left out a sigh. Her and her sister, Britte, those poor children with that rotten man for a father….she and Andvurd did what they could, giving them apples and making them clothes from time to time, inviting them to come in for a glass of milk and a shoulder to cry on.

"Are you alright, Alena?"

She turned towards her husband, who was holding a warm cup of tea for her.

"Just thinking about those poor girls."

"We could…take them in…but."

"Yes…the money. Oh. If only we'd been again young and in power, we could take them under our wing and be able to afford it, with just a tid bit more work. And the house's been so empty, for years and years…" She could feel tears welling up in her eyes. No, she would nothing think about that, anything but that. What was it with those memories, assaulting her today of all days?

She sighed, and turned her eyes up, towards the horizon and the rolling plains, the fields swaying in the wind.

And that's when she saw him, her son, walking through the fields. The needle and wool dropped from her hands as her mouth stared open in shock at the figure approaching her. Gods, her son. Not a year older than when she had last seen him, smiling as he had carried off his family to a new farm, years and years and years ago. Her son! Broad-shouldered and smiling widely, in shining armour, like a knight.

"Anvurd, do you see that?" she whispered. He put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

"It's not him, Allie, and you know it. Probably someone who looks like him."

But then she realised: she was seeing a ghost. Probably a figment of her imagination, sparked by so many years of grief and hope. And clearly, now that he was getting closer, the man was different, his eyes smaller, blue, unlike Yngvald's, taller, his hair longer, his face painted. Then she noticed his companions: another man, shorter than him, not as muscled, with sharper, hungrier features, but otherwise looking exactly like him, and a woman with tangled brown hair, whose features she couldn't see because of the red hood of her armour. They approached the house like a pack of wolves, slow and wary, and Alena felt a tremor go through her.

The woman smiled, and removed her hood. "Grandma Alena, grandpa Andvurd!"

"Oh, Amina! Your parents told us you'd be back by next spring, not so early!" Andvurd cried out, and swept the girl off her feet in a crushing hug. Alena smiled and looked at the pair. She had missed little Amina, who helped them pick up apples and milk the cows and gather the crops when their backs hurt too hard. She reminded them a lot of their lost daughter in law, sweet Brianna, all smiles and optimism.

"And who might your friends be, hmm?" Alena smiled, a twinkle in her eye. "Oh merciful Mara, don't tell me you're getting married! T'was about time, we feared you'd become an old maid!"

The bigger of her companions, who could for all intents and purposes be her son's twin, let out a loud guffaw of laughter, while his twin just smirked.

"She'd be lucky if she'd find someone to marry that'd put up with her." He said, and Amina whirled towards him, and spat:

"I don't see you drowning in women or getting married anytime soon, Vilkas!"

Andvurd and Alena's eyes widened, and they turned to look towards each other. Vilkas?! Surely, that…that was a great coincidence. Yet, when she looked at the man now, all she could see was her son's face and Brianna's sharp cheekbones, merged together into a semblance of a child she'd seen last long, long ago. Her heart ached, and she grasped Andvurd's hand to settle it.

"What brings you back, Amina? Got tired of adventuring?" Andvurd asked.

A languid shrug, a smile. "No, not yet."

"Not ever, s'more like it. Firecracker, our Amina.". The bigger man patted her head and Amina grinned at him. "She gets bored. Won't sit down a moment. Don't really see her picking up…"

"Turnips. How could you have forgotten, I complain about that all the time."

Shrug. "What even are turnips?"

Vilkas let out a long suffering sigh, but smiled at his brother. "You know those purple roots Tilma made us clean for pies, when we were younger?"

"Oh, those."

Amina frowned. "Yep, those. Roots of the - "

" '- daedra, the lot of them.'" Alena supplied, smiling. "We know, darling, we know."

"Anyway, we're here because we're actually looking for someone."

Vilkas took out the two necklaces from his breast pocket, and Alena and Andvurd's breaths caught when they saw them glinting in the sunlight.

"We are looking for someone who might recognize these." He handed the necklaces to them, and Alena could feel the tears threatening to spill over. She leaned onto Andvurd, as he asked with a strangled voice:

"Where did you get these?"

"They were given to us by our adoptive…father. He said he found them at our throats when he found us, and that someone in Rorikstead might know about them. My brother and I…we've long since given hope for any clue regarding your parents, but perhaps…you might point us to the people who might know anything of this? He told us something of an old couple, but well, Rorikstead is a big village…"

"He told them to look for an old couple in the village," Amina interjected "but we've been door to door to everyone I know, and nobody knew anything. And well, here we are, at the outskirts of the village, so I thought, perhaps…but you never told anyone anything of the sort."

Alena burst into tears, and as Andvurd hugged her, he asked: "We…we moved here, after….after our son disappeared. He left, wife and boys in tow, and never returned. We thought the worst, of course…if someone's missing in Skyrim, it's not because they're living the good life and want to keep it a secret."

Vilkas's jaw twitched, and he put a hand on Farkas's shoulder to steady himself. He could feel his eyes getting misty, and his brother trembling underneath his hand like a taut string, ready to burst.

"We never thought…that their sons might have survived. We mourned for years! We still do!" Alena whispered.

"What are your names, lads?" he asked, and they could see his hands trembling, his face a mask of hope.

"Farkas and Vilkas Jergensson, sir." Farkas answered, and Alena broke from her husband's arms and grabbed with each hand one of the brother's cheeks, and made them lean towards her so that she may look at them. Her fingers trembled against their skin, her eyes misty, her face searching.

"You two are the spitting image of your father, but you…you have your mother's eyes. The exact shape, that icy shade of blue…And you," she turned to Vilkas "have her mannerisms, the way you hold your hands and your head, the quirk of her mouth. But you," she turned to Farkas "you are the spitting image of your father from top to bottom, but you have her smile." She burst into sobs, and hugged them both. "Gods, I'd never thought this was possible."

Both men hugged their grandmother. Amina stood to the side awkwardly. Farkas started crying in earnest, his cheek on the top of the woman's head, and Vilkas was sniffling, trying his best not to. Their grandfather joined in into the hug.

Finally, family.

"Err- I'll let you guys talk. I'll go visit my family while you're at it, you look like you could use some privacy."

"You sure you don't want to stay, dear?" Andvurd asked.

She nodded. "I'll be back in a couple of hours. You talk about, well, whatever you want to talk. Now's the time for family, not cute neighbors."

-xx-

The months passed and settled into Heartfire, with the leaves coating the whole of Skyrim in shades of rust, and still no sign from Delphine. If Amina hadn't been so worried with Companions' contracts and the occasional dragon slaying deep in the countryside, she would've been worried. But the days passed languidly, one after the other, as she kept busy with errands from the Companions, quests and jobs.

Erik's wedding was fast approaching, and Amina indulged in a bit of girlishness as she picked out the dress she was going to wear. A fleeting thought came into her head – would Vilkas be surprised by how different she could look in a dress? She brushed it aside. Vilkas cared little for her in that way, and it seemed that ever since that kiss at Kynesgrove, he was doing his best to be starchily polite with her, keeping her at arm's length, not even daring to brush their arms together while they walked side by side. He avoided her touch in any form, steered clear from drinking any mead with her.

Farkas was chasing Bree around the mead hall, making her squee with glee whenever he caught her, tickling her sides until she begged for mercy. Amina looked at them and sighed. She was starting to feel lonely with all that couple's bliss around her. Granted, Bree and Farkas weren't yet a couple, if only because she was too shy and he was too gentle. On the other hand, Njada was keen to avoid them, and Farkas looked at her with sad eyes. When asked, he had told Amina that of course he knew, he could smell it on her, but Njada was not the woman for him.

"I want someone quiet and sweet, you know? Someone soft and caring, kind and gentle. Someone not like me…guess opposites attract."

"You're plenty gentle, Farkas. You're a gentle bear."

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Maybe. All I know is that I need someone to offset…the bear in me." He laughed. "Not a warrior. Someone to come home to that has nothing to do with bloodshed."

Amina nodded.

"What about you and my brother?"

"Sorry?"

"Are you yet made up? Or are you still upset at each other."

She huffed and crossed her arms. "I'll never understand your brother's moods and I'm sick of trying. I don't know what he wants from me, or what the problem is, so I decided to just follow his lead. Gods know I'm tired of arguing with him."

"Do you love him?"

"What kind of question is that? I - " she paused, mulling it over. "Maybe I would love him if I knew him better. Right now I care for him deeply, yes, but he's just my friend."

"Because you want to?"

"Because he won't allow me to be anything else, the mule! She growled, and then blushed from neck to ears. Farkas grinned as if he was the cat that caught the canary.

"Gods know why I talk to him half of the time. He makes me angry more often than not. Always keeps me at arms' length. And yes, okay, maybe I do have a small crush on him, and he is terrifyingly handsome when he doesn't scowl, but he's all around awful with me and I don't deserve it half the time."

"You know he's just awful because he's scared of you. He'll come around eventually."

"Scared, my ass. Shut up, Farkas. Just go away and torture Bree some more.". She waved one hand dismissively at him, while she kept the other on her face, trying to stave off her blush and the burn in her cheeks.

Author's note: Hope you liked this chapter! Next one's coming tomorrow or the day after tomorrow ;) Expect more frequent updates in the future, since now I don't have school anymore haha.