A/N: Well, the gender ratio's evened out but I notice I'm writing from NPC perspectives mostly, so here's one from the Dovahkiin's point of view. Although, to be honest, I can't see this one saving Skyrim any time soon.

"Hmm. Hmm," Anthadan hummed meaningfully over the map. Two steps behind him, Faendal sighed. Around them forest luxuriated in a rare, warm morning. Birds fluttered above them, insects hummed, butterflies danced, and Anthadan could practically taste all the game that even now was gambolling through Skyrim's cold forests. Just waiting for his arrows.

"How about Falkreath?" he tried again. "Have you been there before?"

His fellow Bosmer finally answered, "Yes."

"Well, I haven't. According to the map it's in the middle of the forest. It'll be teeming with game. Maybe even find that dragon."

"Maybe."

He glanced over his shoulder, but Faendal was staring resolutely up the hill at a pair of skylarks dancing above the pines. They walked on for a bit further, and the sun rose higher. Their packs were empty, their quivers were full, the weather was, for once, glorious, so why was the atmosphere so gloomy?

Anthadan knew he had to do something about it. He enjoyed Faendal's company; to find such a competent and agreeable hunting companion had been an unbelievable stroke of luck, and he'd grown to count the man as a friend. Friends don't let friends sulk and ruin a hunting trip. His sighs were going to scare the deer at this rate.

Anthadan stopped. He heard Faendal's quiet footsteps halt as well.

"Look," he turned to face his friend, "if you really don't want to come along, I understand. Go back, I'll be fine. I'm probably not going to find that dragon anyway. I think it went west." Not that any of their westward hunting expeditions had turned up anything remotely resembling dragon tracks, spoor, or even wild stories. "If you'd rather stay with her in Riverwood, it's all right."

"What would be the point!?" Faendal burst out. It was uncharacteristic of the elf to be so loud and Anthadan looked startled. "It makes no difference to her if I'm there or not. I could fall in the river and she would only laugh."

"That's not true," Anthadan protested. "She's your friend."

Faendal sighed, "Yes, a friend. I thought things would be simpler with Sven out of favour."

"He's a dishonest oaf," Anthadan declared. "She's well rid of him."

Faendal just looked pained. He strode off the road and selected a rock to sit on. Now he looked even more miserable.

"What?" Anthadan prompted.

"I'm not much better. When I heard what he'd tried to do, I must admit for a moment I wish I'd thought of it first."

"Yeah, but you didn't. I'm not surprised you were tempted. If he'd selected a less scrupulous courier, or one who was more inclined to help out an overbearing Nord at the expense of a fellow Bosmer it might have even worked. But it didn't, and Camilla wants nothing to do with him."

"No," Faendal looked at Anthadan pointedly. "I have another rival now."

"Wait. What? Me?"

"Yes of course you! When you're there it's like I'm not even in the room. It's all 'It's a fine day with you around, Anthadan,' and 'I guess we're both outsiders here.'"

"Well..." He rubbed the back of his neck. It wasn't like he hadn't noticed the way the Imperial girl looked at him.

"She even called you handsome! Why don't you just marry her and be done with it!" He waved his arms at the sky.

"Just one moment. Have you, at any point in your matchmaking, considered my feelings in any of this? Maybe I don't want to marry her. You're in love with her, of course you think she's the most enchanting vision in Tamriel, but I'm not." He huffed, "I see a passingly pretty but unremarkable human who is not to my taste."

"You just don't know her yet."

"Why are you trying to convince me? I haven't done or said a single thing to encourage her."

"I know." Faendal put his head in his hands. "That makes it worse. I can't even be angry at you; it's not your fault."

"Love clearly makes you miserable. And at the end of the day, what? It's still just us out here, not a woman in sight. We should be free of their influence, celebrate it."

Faendal raised his head and scowled, "You really are an idiot aren't you? Or have you honestly never been in love?"

"Honestly? Never," he said cheerfully. It wasn't something he was entirely against, but he had other things to do, important, dragon-hunting things. Love could wait, or it could get off its arse and find him; he was not looking for it.

"I still think you're an idiot. Only an idiot would watch a dragon defeat an entire platoon of Imperial troops and burn down a town, and decide he wants its head for his wall. You're lucky you haven't found it. You haven't even bothered to go Whiterun and tell the Jarl."

"What good can he do?" Anthadan shrugged. "He might send a handful of troops, but that didn't do Helgen any good. I'm more useful out here."

"What makes you think you can kill a dragon when Imperial archers couldn't dent its hide."

"Because they're Imperials. We're Bosmer. We were born with bows in our hands. I'll put an arrow right through the dragon's eye." He drew bead on an imaginary dragon, tracking it across the sky.

Faendal shook his head, "I really don't see what she sees in you. You're not even that good looking."

"What? Are you blind? Anthadan smoothed his hair back. "These cheekbones would make a Goddess weep. And this rump-"

"Please stop, I'm getting a headache."

Anthadan smirked. Faendal looked at him for a few moments, fought valiantly to keep a straight face, and then laughed and looked away.

"Well, you're funny, I'll give you that."

Their smiles faded and they contemplated the empty, sun-dappled road for a while in silence.

"Seriously," Faendal said. "What should I do? I don't want to lose her. Maybe I should resign myself to the fact that I'm not good enough for her. I should be lucky to count myself as her friend."

"That's a defeatist attitude. That's not going to slay us any dragons."

"You and your dragon obsession. I think you just enjoy mucking about. Ten septims says you've never had a proper job in your life."

Anthadan clicked his fingers, "Yes, you're right. I think you're onto something."

"What do you mean?" Faendal looked suspiciously at him.

"You know that claw we got back from Bleak Falls Barrow?"

"Yeah, I remember. You stood by some carvings and a swirly thing went into your head. It didn't seem to make you any smarter though."

"Yes, well, that was pretty strange. My point is, Camilla liked me a lot more after that."

"Of course she did, you got the claw back. Although I helped. You did mention that I helped, didn't you?"

"Yes, yes, but that's not the point. She didn't care about the claw; it belonged to her brother. I heard them arguing about it. She wanted to go and get it, and when I offered to help, she wanted to come with me, but her brother only let her go as far as the edge of town."

"What are you getting at?"

"She wants adventure! She wants to get out of Riverwood and that tiny shop. She likes me because I was happy to have her come along."

"But she's so beautiful, and refined," Faendal said.

Anthadan grabbed his collar and pulled him up so he could look him in the eye, "She's bored, Faendal. She wants excitement. You are perfectly placed to give it to her, no pun intended," he smirked. He let him go, "I'm not saying you have to take her to ruins or dungeons or anything, just offer to take her hunting as a good start. And if she wants to get her hands dirty, let her. But protect her. Be the man of adventure, and you'll never get rid of her."

Faendal frowned, "You really think that would work?"

"Make the offer, it couldn't hurt. Ten septims says she'll leap at it. And then she'll probably leap on you."

Faendal darkened under his tan, "Will you stop saying things like that? It's crude."

"But I hadn't even started on the hand gestures."

Faendal got to his feet, "You know, I'll give it a try." He shook Anthadan's hand, "Thank you my friend. I'll never forget the help you've given me. I'm forever in your debt."

"That's the spirit!" Anthadan waved him off as he started walking briskly back to Riverwood, whistling cheerfully.

A short while later, Anthadan looked about. He caught a flash of red as a fox darted through the undergrowth, too fast to take a shot at it. "So uh, I guess I'll go to Falkreath on my own."

There was no one there to answer him. He scowled, and set off down the road.

"Women. Nothing but trouble."

A/N: I didn't really like the Love Triangle quest. If you don't deliver the letter directly to Camilla, dishonestly or otherwise, and approach the other suitor instead, it turns out they're both dishonest jerks. But you don't have the option of showing Camilla both letters and telling her so. So in my headcanon whoever you see first is the dishonest jerk and the other one finds out about it later.

Faendal is a pretty good companion for a low level character; good natured and with decent skills, so he gets a bit of revisionism in his favour.