Athene was three bottles of mead into oblivion when the three bandits that had taken over her camp beneath Whiterun returned for the night.
She'd been surprised to find it unoccupied anyway, so she wasn't surprised to hear their footsteps. But it pissed her off that they didn't think anything of the fire she'd lit and the rabbit stew she had bubbling. They laughed and sat in the dirt and shared their ale between them as if their own mothers had set up camp, and not one seemed to wonder how that was possible.
She glowered from the shadows and calculated her odds.
Three against one. But one that had become very good at quick attacks from the darkness. On the other hand she was a little tipsy, and she didn't want her new quest to finish at the business end of some idiot bandit's warhammer, before she'd had a chance to screw it up some other way.
One of the bandits fell over backwards and began to snore. The others laughed.
Athene raised an eyebrow. Two against one.
Their voices rose into cacophony, both choosing different drinking songs as they tried to out-ballad each other. Athene winced. When one hit a nose reserved for babies and drowning cats, the other choked on his drink. As he wiped his eyes and tried to recover, the shadows moved behind him and a blade slid easily through his leather tunic. The slice cut right to his heart.
He stopped choking.
The last conscious bandit believed he'd won and cheered, tossing an empty bottle out from the camp to spook a nearby horse. He hiccupped and giggled, and was still smiling when his throat was slit and he collapsed by the fire.
The sleeping bandit was dispatched without trial. Athene looked at her handiwork and realized one irritating fact: there were now three dead bodies in her camp, and all she wanted to do was sleep.
"At least no one can claim I'm letting myself get rusty," she muttered. She picked up her backpack and made for town. There'd be wolves soon, and not the kind she needed.
After a restless night at The Drunken Huntsman, and the loss of a good ten gold to Janessa—damn the Dunmer's poker face—Athene made her way to Jorrvaskr. She didn't sneak or hide, and didn't even walk through the door. She went around back and asked Athis where Farkas was. Even when he smirked she refused to give up, though she felt her cheeks burn.
"I think the Circle are still in discussion with the Harbinger. Hang on, and I'll tell him you want him."
"Yes, hilarious."
For all his teasing, he did as he said and Farkas appeared in the courtyard as if he'd run there.
She hadn't been to Whiterun since the battle where Galmar led Ulfric's troops, and Athene had been suspiciously absent. Although she knew Farkas hadn't been killed or even badly hurt during the battle, seeing him in the flesh made her more glad than she'd anticipated. It was a feeling he seemed to reflect right back at her as his face split into a terrific grin.
"Sorry," he said. "I know it's a time of tragedy. At least that's what everyone is saying. Still, it's great to see you."
"Uh," Athene said, while her mind said a dozen things much more coherent, all at once. Unable to choose, she fell silent.
"Athene? You okay?"
"Yes, of course. Look, I'm sorry about Ulfric."
Well, that wouldn't do. Starting with a massive lie? Dammit.
"Yeah, I know. I'm glad you weren't there when his group was ambushed. Do you know they still haven't found Stone-Fist?"
This was really not going in the direction Athene wanted. She pulled him to the side of the courtyard.
She blurted, "I'm going to High Hrothgar. Will you come with me?"
"The 7000 steps! Sure! Wait, hang on. You're not technically a companion so if I'm going to be your Shield Brother, I gotta talk to Vilkas."
"You have to ask your brother if you're allowed?"
"Not exactly. But we watch each other's backs. I can't just run off without saying something."
Athene shrugged. "Fair enough."
Sitting in the courtyard waiting while Farkas made his case to the Circle, and Athis and Njada whispered and threw her looks, was one of the most difficult half-hours Athene had put up with that year. And considering the year she'd had, that was saying something. When Farkas returned with his pack and broadsword she'd nearly ground her teeth flat.
"We're off then?"
"I can't wait," he said. "The 7000 steps! Even Vilkas hasn't been. Aela said travelling with you I'd learn a lot about a lot of things and she seemed to think that was funny. Do you know what she meant?"
Athene shook her head.
"Oh, well. I can't wait to find out. And hey, the 7000 steps! Did you know Tiber Septim himself supposedly went up there? And do you know about Kyne? At the Throat of the World? Hey, what do they think about Kyne in Valenwood, anyway?"
Farkas kept up his chatter all the way out of the city.