Sálea was fuming as she stomped up to the Skyforge. She held Vilkas's great sword by the hilt and was trying desperately not to break it in half. Vilkas's insults were ringing through her ears far too loudly for her liking. That bastard doesn't know who he's messing with.

His sword was worth more than her?!

She was the dragonborn. She slayed dragons. She protected holds. Slaughtered bandits! And he called her a whelp?!

A whelp?!

Come. On!

Apparently, being a Thane meant nothing! Nothing!

Sálea reached the top and looked around for the old man she was supposed to hand the shit-piece sword over to. Spotting him near the forge, Sálea took a deep breath and schooled her features. Eorlund was good at his job, and he didn't deserve her anger. He was a good man, he wasn't the one who wronged her. She was friends with his wife after all and she would rather it stay that way. Putting a smile on her face, Sálea greeted him.

"Hail, Eorlund! Good day to you!" She raised her arm up high and enthusiastically waved to him.

Eorlund turned to her, tool in hand, a warm smile on his face. "Ah! Sálea, my Thane! It's been too long! What brings you all the way up here?"

Sálea sighed as she walked over to meet up with the man, presenting Vilkas's great sword. "My Jarl has commanded me to join the companions. I passed their first. . . test, and Vilkas demanded that I bring you his sword to sharpen."

Eorlund raised an eyebrow as he took the sword from her. "The Jarl ordered you to join the companions? Is he not aware of your. . . distaste, for them?"

Sálea shrugged. "Only the people I consider to be my friends know my opinion of Jorrvaskr and its residents. That said, my Jarl does know this. I did not question him, but I wish he hadn't sent me here, of all places. Is that—Is Vilkas always so—." With a huff, Sálea crossed her arms and glared at the sky as she heard Eorlund's laughter.

Whipping away a tear, Eorlund's hysterics slowly calmed. "Ah, don't worry about it too much las. They were all whelps once, they just might not like to talk about it." He sighed and placed a strong hand on her shoulder, bringing her gaze back to him. "It's important you know that you don't always have to do as you're told. Nobody rules anybody in the companions."

Sálea took a deep breath and nodded. Eorlund gave her a squeeze and sighed. "In any case, I have a favor to ask." Sálea dipped her head. She was willing to help him out. This was the one thing she did as Thane that the companions could never do. Giving aid without asking anything in return. She even helped out a creepy jester on the road once. Wonder what he's up to now…

"Thank you, my Thane. I've been working on a shield for Aela." Eorlund paused and handed her a shield. "My wife is in mourning and I need to get back to her soon. I'd be much obliged if you could take this to Aela."

Mourning?! "What happened? Is Frailia alright?" Sálea frowned, concerned for the elderly woman she called a friend.

Eorlund breathed deeply for a moment. "No. My son, Thorald, is dead. He went to aid the Stormcloaks in the fight and perished. My wife is not handling it well. She believes that Thorald is not dead, but. . ." He sighed.

"She isn't taking it well." Sálea finished for him. Not wishing to put any more pressure on the man. "I'm sorry to hear that. I'll make some time and check on her as soon as I can." She spoke softly, laying her hand on his arm. "I am truly sorry my friend. Your family will heal, but it will take time. Stay strong."

The old man nodded, seeming to take comfort in her words. She smiled at him once more before she turned and left to hunt down Aela, shield in hand. As she entered Jorrvaskr and was hit once again by the stench of mead, she realized she had no idea who Aela was. Internally smacking herself in the back of her head, Sálea searched the room, looking once again for Tilma.

Finding her back at the fire, Sálea approached the woman. Tilma was watching her, a small smile on her aged face.

"You did well, dear. I'm proud of you."

Sálea couldn't help but beam at her. "Thank you Tilma, that's nice to hear every now and then. But I, unfortunately, can't stay long. I must find a woman named Aela and give her this shield. Eorlund has requested that I give it to her so he may return to his wife as quickly as possible. Do you know where I can find her? What does she look like?"

Tilma seemed to be trying to keep herself from laughing. "What is it?"

"The redhead."

. . . . .

". . . What?"

"Aela is the redhead."

Sálea's eye twitched. No. No, she wasn't doing tha-that dog, a favor! No! She refused! Shaking her head violently, Sálea took a step back and nearly dropped the shield.

"No."

"Yes."

She growled, the sound coming deep from her throat, sounding feral. Aela called her weak! She insulted her! Over a giant! She wasn't even there when it attacked! She had just come up to the small group a moment after it fell to their blade!

Why was she blamed for something she had no control over?!

Noticing Tilma looking at her weirdly, Sálea took a deep breath and forced down the anger, trying to calm herself again. Sálea merely breathed for a bit, eyes closed, deep breath in and out. She didn't want to scare Tilma. Not Tilma.

"I'm sorry, my temper has gotten away from me far too many times today. I did not mean to take it out on you. I apologize."

Tilma observed her, frowning. The old woman placed her hand against her cheek, then her forehead. "Are you feeling well? You look pale, tired, are you ill?"

Sálea blinked and shook her head. "No, I—I'm just a. . . well, today hasn't turned out how I wanted it to."

Tilma didn't seem like she was going to let the issue drop when she sighed. "Please, don't over do it, Sálea. We need our Thane strong, and well-rested. Aela is down below in the living cambers speaking with Skjor."

Sálea nodded, grateful. She then turned and started over to the stairs. Tilma was far more observant than most people in Skyrim. She knew things that no one else did, and Sálea often caught herself thinking that Tilma might know more than she let on. From the way she might say something in daily conversation to how she says things in general, Sálea sometimes thought the old woman knew she was dragonborn. She wouldn't be surprised, in all honesty.

With a sigh, Sálea walked down the long hall, looking for red hair. Hearing voices, she paused and looked down a short hallway. Her eyes were then blessed with the sight of red hair and a bald man sharing a. . . passionate embrace.

Clearing her throat, they jumped apart and glared at her. "I'm sorry to intrude, but Eorlund has sent me to give you your shield." Sálea said, face void of any feeling as she passed the shield to Aela.

"Ah, good. I've been waiting for this." Aela was no longer glaring at her, but she was giving her a look.

Don't tell anyone. You got that?

Sálea narrowed her eyes slightly.

If you think I spend my days going about and spreading gossip, you're wrong. I'd rather not think about what I witnessed any longer. So yes, I won't tell anyone.

Red gave a subtle nod. Good.

"You know this one?" The man asked, unaware of the silent conversation happening between the women.

"Yes," Aela said. "She gave Vilkas quite a beating."

"Don't let Vilkas catch you saying that."

"Tell me, do you think you can take him in a real fight?" Red scrutinized her, looking her up and down as she ignored the man.

Sálea had to stop herself from growling again. Red must be thinking about the giant incident. "I don't care much for boasting." Fuck. Yes.

Red smirked a little. "Ah, a woman of action. Here, let's have Farkas show you where you'll be resting your head."

"Farkas!" The bald man shouted.

Movement came from down the hall and a man appeared a moment later. Tall, muscular, long hair, heavy armor. All paired with kind, silverish blue eyes.

He seemed alright.

"Did you call me?" Farkas asked, sounding unsure of himself.

Sálea's heart throbbed. He seemed so sweet. . . and familiar. Where had she seen him?

"Of course we did ice brain. Show this new blood where the rest of the whelps sleep." Red barked, crossing her arms, shield at her feet.

Sálea's blood started to boil again. What was with these people?!

"New blood? Oh, I remember you. Come on, follow me." Farkas turned and started back down the way she came.

Not bothering to say goodbye, Sálea followed without question. He clearly remembered her, why couldn't she remember him? Her heart sank down to her stomach and she sighed, catching his attention.

"Do they always insult you?" She asked, her voice low. She knew they were bullies, but she didn't think they would go after their own.

Farkas shook his head. "Skjor and Aela like to tease me, but they're good people." Doubt. "They challenge us to be our best."

Sálea nodded and held her hands behind her back, raising her chin up. "I won't say anything then."

Farkas gave her a weird look. "What?"

Confused, Sálea glanced at him. "What?"

Farkas stared at her and sighed, rolling his eyes. "Whelps. . ." he muttered.

Her heart flinched.

"Anyways, it's nice to have a new face around. It gets boring here sometimes. I hope we keep you. This can be a rough life."

Sálea furrowed her brow and took a good look at him. He resembled Vilkas in a way, yet he was different. He didn't give off any hostile vibes, he was nice. Kinder than she expected a companion to be. Considering she hadn't met a nice one yet, she wasn't sure how to act around him. He clearly knew her as well, but she couldn't place him. Where had they met?

"The quarters are up here. Just pick a bed and fall into it when you're tired. Tilma will keep the place clean, she always has." Farkas stopped in a doorway and turned to her. "All right, so here you are. Come to me or Aela if you're looking for work. Once you've made a bit of a name for yourself, Skjor and Vilkas might have things for you to do. Good luck, and welcome to the companions."

He left and she watched him go. Did he. . . not know she was the Thane? Sálea groaned and rubbed her eyes. She was completely alone in the hallway and she honestly had no idea what to do next. She was tired but she would rather die than sleep here. In a room, where anyone could just. . . walk in. Making a decision, Sálea turned and went back down to where she last saw Kodlak. His door was ajar again but she didn't hear a sound. Thinking better of it, Sálea turned to leave when he called out to her.

"Come in my Thane, I've been waiting for you."

Turning back, slightly confused, Sálea opened the door to find Kodlak exactly where she left him. He motioned for her to sit and she did.

"Vilkas told me of your strength, I truly believe you won't have a problem completing your next trial."

Sálea bowed her head. "Thank you Harbinger, your words honor me."

He hummed. "Did Jarl Balgruuf tell you why he wanted you to join us, my Thane?"

Sálea made sure to keep her tone even and light. "No, I did not question him on the matter."

Kodlak didn't seem convinced. "I see. . ."

"In any case," Sálea started. "I have come asking if I could sleep in my home instead of here, in Jorrvaskr. It seems a little redundant for me to stay here when I have a home in the city."

"Ah," The elder smiled. "Of course my dear. You don't have to stay here if you don't wish to. Go, rest."

Sálea dipped her head as she stood. "Thank you, Harbinger. Good today."

With that, Sálea left the room and jogged up the stairs and into the main room. Thankfully, only Tilma was there and with a brief goodbye, Sálea left the building and started home.

She was tired.