Sorry this took forever to post, I just got distracted again. But this is where the story starts to stray from it's original path. Up until now, everything has been pretty much the same idea, just different wording. Anyway, enjoy! If you have any questions about the storyline or see anything that needs correcting, feel free to shoot me a DM. As always, review and follow!
I hate mornings. I hate them more than pesky little ice wraiths. I hate them like I hated garlic and cinnamon, but mornings always took the cake.
"Ugh!" I groaned as a rolled over in my bed. Slowly, I wrapped myself in my fur blanket. Something made a noise downstairs, like someone moving in armor. It took me a brief moment to remember I was in Breezehome, my old house in Whiterun. I racked my brain for the name of the housecarl given to me by Balgruuf.
"My thane?" a voice called from my doorway. "Is everything all right?"
"I'm fine," I said groggily as a sat up. "What time is it?"
"Around noon, my thane," she answered quickly, as if she knew the question before it left my lips.
Shit. I slept until noon again. I moved from my bed to the basin of water on the table, groaning as I washed my face.
"I tried to wake you earlier, my thane, but you swatted me away. I didn't want to anger you further."
"Did I?"
She noted with a small smile, pointing at a red line on her bottom lip. "Managed to bust my lip before I moved away."
I sighed, not really wanting to pretend to feel sorry. That's what she gets for trying to wake me, I thought with a familiar sense of apathy. I sighed again. Though it had been years since I left the bandit group that practically raised me, I still couldn't shake off the brash attitude they left in me. Time and time again, I found myself being rude to an undeserving stranger. In truth, it wasn't that I felt bad about being less than my best to people; it was the fact that I didn't feel any remorse or regret.
"Don't worry; it's nothing, of course," she mentioned as she handed me the leather armor I set out the night before. "So what's on the agenda?"
I looked away from the complicated buckles to give her a questioning look. "What do you usually do?"
"Well," she said clearing her throat. "During the months you were gone, I mostly hunted for Anoriath in the market. But now that you're back I'm available for any task you need me to do."
I pondered her sentence. How was it, I wondered to myself, to live such a subservient life, to live waiting hand and foot for anybody you were told to. As much as I hated the dragonborn business, I loved the freedom it gave me. My brow furrowed as I thought of my own past. My own abject life as an essential slave to anyone who had the gold. Not that that gold was ever mine to begin with. I shook the memory out of my head and gave Lydia another glance. "I don't need your help." Inwardly, I winced at the acerbity of my comment.
My housecarl laughed quietly. "I didn't mean to imply you needed anything, my thane. I was assigned to you by the Jarl. I am sworn to protect you."
I nodded, faintly remembering the exact same words as she had mentioned them months before when we first met.
"So, with no offense this time, what can I help you with today, my thane?" Lydia asked with a steady voice.
I tied my hair into a tight bun at the back of my head and smirked at my housecarl. "Nothing at all." She opened her mouth to object, but I stopped her before she began. "You have the day off."
"I've had the last 5 months off, my thane. Six if you count the one month you stayed in Breezehome before you were whisked off into some adventure." Her tone mimicked that of a whining child. "Let me go with you on this one, even if it's all the way in Dawnstar, or Riften!"
Her need to explore, to get out and fight, reminded me of my own. I, too, had been stagnant too long. Recently, I craved the journeys and the near-death experiences. The rush of adrenaline that drove my body to do things I didn't think possible. So I turned to my last option: The Companions.
"I'm visiting Jorvaskr today," I said, 'You can't come with me' clearly implied. Her expression fell.
"Oh, I understand. Is there anything you might need me to tend to today, then?"
An idea sprang into my head before I walked out of the door. "How about you visit the jarl today?"
Her brow furrowed.
"Find us some work. When I'm done with my tasks, we'll take care of those bounties."
Her face brightened, but she hid a smile when she straightened up. "Yes, my thane."
• • •
"Farkas," the timid voice called from somewhere behind him. "Can we train now?" He turned away from his book to glance back at Ria whose hand rested on the hilt of her sword.
He felt bad. He'd been avoiding work all morning in fear of being busy when the new recruit walked in. She was going to walk in soon. She had promised him. Well, it wasn't exactly a promise as much as an implication. The last time he saw her, she was walking off to get Vilkas' sword sharpened. He assumed she had to be back to return it. Or maybe she already had and he missed it. Whatever the case, she was a new recruit and at any moment she could be walking through the very doors his eyes had been trained on.
He glanced down at the worn book in his hands, borrowed from Vilkas' shelf. His eyes skimmed the letters, calloused fingers flipping the softened pages as he pretended to indulge in a written adventure. What was he hoping for? This display to make him look occupied? Even he knew the book didn't fit in his hands. No one would believe that he, Farkas the Simple-minded, would ever read. With a sigh, he dropped the tome on the table. It landed with a soft thud that prompted Ria to step forward. He almost forgot she was there.
"Everything okay, brother?" Her eyes filled with concern. "Septim for your thoughts?"
With a grunt, he shook his head and ran large fingers through his raven hair. "They're not worth a septim," he grumbled.
His shield-sibling frowned. "I'm sure that's not true." The air filled with an awkward silence before Ria slipped away with a half-hearted, "feel better."
Thankful to be rid of her, Farkas glanced around the hall. At the far end, Torvar sat with a half empty bottle of mead. It was probably his fourth one and it was only noon. Athis and Njada occupied a whole table with a heated match of arm wrestling. He could hear the more than familiar sound of steel clashing against steel out in the yard. Everything here was so dull. He cringed at his own thought. Although he had been thinking the same thing for so long, the thought never solidified until now and it hurt him. Unexpectedly, a pang of guilt swelled in his chest.
A flush of anger crept up his cheeks, his fist balling on the table. "Stop it," he muttered under his breath. Kodlak had given him and Vilkas so much here. Without him they wouldn't have a home, they wouldn't have a family. Farkas never pegged himself as ungrateful, in fact the truth was far from that. Any chance he got, he'd show the Harbinger his gratitude any way he could. It angered him now to find himself wanting something more than what he'd been given.
As upset as it made him, as thankless as it seemed, he could not deny that he did want something more. He needed a change.
The front door of Jorrvaskr opened and closed with a soft thud. He'd been waiting all morning. Distracted as he was, Farkas' head snapped up at the noise. When her eyes made contact with his, his face softened. A sigh of relief escaped his lips. The whelp walked in clad in leather armor. 'Light weight.' The thought came with a small smirk.
Fortunately for him, nobody in the room moved to greet her, nor did she move to any of the Companions for help. She simply glanced around their home, taking in the grandeur of the spacious yet cozy hall. With effort, he made his way to her.
"Welcome back," he offered.
Upon hearing his voice, she looked over at him with no smile on her face. She gave a curt nod.
Farkas knew what to say next. He'd been running through greetings all morning to guarantee he wouldn't mess anything up. The first bout of pride began to swell in his chest in anticipation. He opened his mouth to speak his well thought words when he was interrupted by a voice behind him.
"Ah, newcomer," Aela spoke. "I see Vilkas hasn't scared you away yet."
A small 'hmph' sounded from the recruit. "Not quite yet," she said sarcastically. "Okay, where do I start?"
"Eager, are we? I knew there was something I liked about you," the huntress said with a smile wide enough to show her canines. "Farkas will show you downstairs and give you your first task. I'll be seeing you later then?"
Though posed as a question, it somehow felt more like an order. Farkas watched the Breton nod in affirmation. She turned to him, silver eyes meeting brown. "You're Farkas," she told him. Her voice was so steady, so powerful.
"Yup," he plainly said. "I can show you where the whelps sleep."
The short walk downstairs was silent, the recruit behind Farkas making absolutely no noise at all.
"Perks of light armor, huh?" Farkas asked. She raised an eyebrow. "Your stealth, I mean. You don't make much noise."
She smiled thinly.
"You don't talk much, neither."
She shook her head, making Farkas sigh. "I'm kidding," she laughed. "Sorry, I'm not one for small talk really."
"No worries," the Companion said, his tone more relieved. "We're here anyway."
The pair stopped just inside a wide doorframe. "This is where the whelps sleep?"
"And you, too." He turned to her. "Pick any bed and fall in it when you're tired." A quick glance around the room showed him an anxious Ria sitting at her bed's edge, staring at them with an excited expression. "The others seem eager to meet you."
The newest whelp nodded for the umpteenth time before stepping toward an unoccupied bed. "Thanks, Farkas."
"Come find me when you're ready for work."
After one last nod, he turned away.