(I randomly encountered Farkas and some other Companions in the middle of nowhere, getting pummelled by a bear and jumped by Silver Hand. It was pretty epic as I couldn't understand what they were doing there, but I wove that little bit into the story below)
So, for a month or so, I divided my time between Riften and Whiterun; I’d work with the Thieves’ Guild, doing odd jobs of fishing, bedlam, maybe grabbing a rare item here and there after running some numbers. There was more to it than that, however – I’d tell you of how I nearly met my death at Mercer’s hand, but that’s a story for another time. And then, of course, suddenly – it wasn’t all right at all. The Thieves’ Guild was turned upside down and the ground beneath my feet tilted and nearly cast me into the abyss. What that would have meant for the world, I daren’t think – but my dubious luck was with me. In between jobs to try and get money into the guild and plan a way to deal with Mercer, I’d get a message from Aela of a nest of Silver Hand she had discovered and off I’d go to clear them out. I was pretty busy – busy enough that I was able to forget about everything and just concentrate on the next job. Now and again, I’d be sent into the bowels of some forgotten place – more draugr, I hate draugr – and I’d come back out with another Word etched into my brain. Now and again, I’d travel and find a small village being attacked by a dragon, and have to kill it for the sake of my own survival. But I left as quickly as I could when that happened, the gaping guards staring after me in disbelief as I ripped the dragon’s soul out of its mortal shell…then both soul and I were gone.
I was still healing up from Mercer’s goodbye present – curse his name! – and so I was doing light duty for the Thieves’ Guild for a time. I was just finishing up a job in Whiterun – stealing a nice little item from one of the larger houses – when I decided to stop in and see if I could get in touch with Aela in person to deliver the plans I had found of the Silver Hand’s primary location. By my estimations the Silver Hand forces would be considerably diminished and ripe for the picking. While it made me a bit nervous to enter Jorrvaskr considering all the side-work Aela and I had been doing, I had just about managed to convince myself that we were doing the right thing.
I entered Jorrvaskr and was hailed immediately, Ria leaping up to greet me rather breathlessly though her face was wrought.
“Where have you been? Haven’t you heard?”
I stilled my hammering heart best I could and kept my voice level. ”Heard what?”
“Silver Hand,” Athis replied as he strode in from the courtyard, his arm in a sling. ”They went for us while we were out on a job. Farkas is downstairs recovering – they managed to injure him rather badly.”
So much for stilling my heart. Without a thought I dropped the bag I was carrying – damn the jewelled pitcher! – and pounded down the stairs. I only just managed to skid to a stop at Farkas’ door, took a deep breath and steady myself before I knocked and heard Farkas’s voice weakly calling for me to enter.
I slipped inside,and stopped sharply in midstride. Farkas looked terrible – pale, propped up on pillows, his ribs wreathed in bandages. One side of his face was a massive bruise, but he gave me as cheery a smile as he could. ”Should have seen the others, well what was left of them,” he murmured.
My breath caught in my throat and I bounded forward, completely out of usual character, to hug the big oaf round the neck. He gasped in pain, but chuckled and weakly wrapped a huge arm round me as gently in return as he could. ”Easy, easy, don’t finish me off. I’m all right. Just a bit cut up, rib broke maybe. They used silver, but I’m all right. Where have you been?”
I shook my head, guilt rising again in a huge wave. ”Working. Farkas, I’m sorry.” I sat down upon the bed and closed my eyes. So, we’d torched a beehive and the swarm had managed to get angry. Rather than making things better, Aela and I had been making them worse. At least such was my feeling, but Farkas – blessed Icebrain that he is – was cursing under his breath, wheezing through his cracked ribcage.
“I’ll hunt them down and rip them in half, don’t you worry. Just let me heal up – we heal fast, you kn -” he blinked and I could hear him sniff; he was scenting the air. He placed his hand on my shoulder and pushed me back slightly to look into my face, his blue eyes searching mine. ”You…your smell is different. Dreema. You didn’t.”
I gave him a sheepish look, my eyes welling with tears. All I could think of was my antics were making things worse, and I’d nearly lost the best friend I’d ever had in Skyrim. ”I did. And I chose it, so don’t get angry. We’re kin now, Circle to Circle, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t here to help. I’m so sorry.”
Farkas leaned back in the pillows and stared at me with a sigh. ”Dreema…” he searched for words, then growled as they didn’t come. ”I wish I was smarter,” he rumbled – the first time I had ever heard him say such a thing. I frowned and began to protest, but Farkas’s gaze now turned to the door. He sighed wearily. ”Brother, don’t start.”
I startled and turned round. Vilkas was in the doorway, his arms crossed as he stared at us both, saying nothing for a few moments. His eyes flared, and his jaw set before he too exhaled a breath and shook his head ruefully. ”If I hadn’t just seen the look on your face, Dreema, I would have kicked you out of Jorrvaskr myself.” He lowered his gaze and shuffled his feet, his voice terse. ”But your…love for my brother is plain.”
“Vilkas -” Farkas began, but Vilkas cut him short with a savage wave of his hand.
“You need to heal up, brother. I’ll worry about this one.” Vilkas looked up at me and nodded down the hallway. ”The old man is looking for you. Told me to send you his way if I saw you. So, come.”
I turned back to Farkas, more in command of myself now, but still willing to risk kissing his brow before I rose from the bed. ”You heal up, Farkas, if I find you sneaking about the meadhall I’ll drag you back into bed by your ear.” The burly Nord opened his mouth, saw the look in my eyes, and abruptly closed it. Good, he was learning.
I turned on my heel and strode out of his room, closing the door behind me as Vilkas stood with his arms folded, still staring at me with that unreadable expression.
“So. You’ve joined us in the blood. Aela’s doing, I take it.”
“It was my choice,” I replied. ”How is Farkas, really?”
“I’ve treated him with healing herbs – we do heal fast, so at least that is in our favour.” He searched my face for a moment with his ice-blue eyes, though I have no idea what he was looking for – guilt? I had plenty. I felt awful, and I imagine I looked it, for Vilkas’ expression softened for a moment, before going cold and detached once more. He said nothing further, and merely opened the door to Kodlak’s rooms.
“I’ve brought her, Kodlak.” He bowed stiffly to the elder man at his table, and turned and left us there.
Kodlak turned round in his chair and studied me quietly before he gestured to the chair across from him.
“I’ve been looking for you. Sit down, Dreema.”
I winced inwardly – it was like being told to sit and prepare to be lectured by a parent, which of course was exactly the case. And exactly like those times, I found myself wishing for yelling and temper, but instead I could feel Kodlak’s disappointment. And, of course that was even worse. I squirmed like a child, but managed to force myself to look Kodlak in the eye, sitting as still as I could.
“The Silver Hand seem quite demonstrative of late. They grow bold. I don’t suppose you’ve had a hand in it, have you? I can smell the blood on you, I can hear it in your veins, and I’m aware that Farkas changed with you in Dustman’s Cairn. So…what of it?”
My lips were numb, but any thought of lying went right out of my head. I’d never lied to my father in all my days, and Kodlak couldn’t have been more paternal at that moment if he had tried. “Aela and I…ever since Skjor’s death, we’ve been working to rid Skyrim of those dogs. I’ve even found their main location.” I hesitated as Farkas’s battered face welled up in my mind’s eye again, and my voice was quieter still. ”But if I had known the cost, I would have never done it.”
“I know what you two have been doing,” Kodlak said after a few moments’ pause. ”Far be it from me to tell a Companion what to do, or not to do, but I’ve known. Whatever doom falls from your actions is not for me to say, but I will say this to you: Skjor did not fall by your hand, but by his own. When he got a thing into his head, no force upon the world could stop him. Do not blame yourself for it, though we all have grieved. But there…we all have our wyrd, and I am old now. It may be that we need the Silver Hand gone, but my thoughts turn away from battle, and instead to eternal rest. My time nears, and well I know it.
“Bosmer, there is no cause for our people to love one another,” he continued as he reached over and poured a flagon of mead, then pushed it toward me. ”But I sit here and drink with you as a Companion, as kin. I welcome you to our halls, and indeed have been waiting for you. Your heart is strong, and there is a fire in your belly. Perhaps our people are not as different as we seem. So, hear me, Dreema; for you have shown you have ability far beyond any fighter in these halls, and I would ask you to do one great thing for me.”
I was touched and humbled by Kodlak’s words, and I raised the mug in my hand in his honour. ”Please, just ask.” No ulterior motives now; I meant it, and the old man knew, for he began to talk now of the doom which had turned the Companions into werewolves, of the blessing-curse upon them, and of the fates of the werewolves who roamed Skyrim – the halls of their after-life, Sovngarde, were closed to those of beast-blood. Instead, they were destined to be part of Hircine’s hunting-party, beasts forever upon the hunt.
“There was a time I might have welcomed that,” Kodlak admitted. ”And I am well aware that Aela might as well. However, I am a Nord, and I will die as a Nord. I wish to be with my people in my after days. I would be cleansed, and whole.”
And so he explained to me that he believed there was a cure – a way to turn the blessing-curse round by bringing the heads of the Witches who had cursed the Companions with beast blood to the fires in the crypt of the first Companions. ”There I will burn the head, there I will fight the wolf within, and there I will return out to the open sky a Nord.” Kodlak drained his mug and wiped his beard with the back of his hand. ”And I send you, a Bosmer, to do this. You, because out of all of us, you are the most fell, the most strong. And yes, because I have heard your name whispered in Whiterun, I have heard the Greybeards call you, and I know a bit of your wyrd, and have guessed the rest.”
I stared slack-jawed at Kodlak, the mead forgotten in my hand. I wanted to make protest, but couldn’t manage – the man knew. He knew so much but had said nothing. ”Why? Why did you just let me stumble about and get people nearly killed?”
“Would you have listened? At your age, I know I wouldn’t have done,” he replied with a wan smile. ”However…more to the point, I believed that sooner or later, you would reach the point yourself where you decided it was time to stop running. Farkas swore an oath to you with such reverence, such fealty that I have never seen before or since. He is the last to trust anyone who comes into these halls, and yet he would follow you to the edges of the world. Aela respects you, Skjor admired you – “
“And Vilkas hates me,” I muttered bitterly.
Kodlak’s brows raised a moment, his eyes twinkling. ”Think you so? Well…I will say nothing on that. But I will say I wish you to do this alone. I know you are capable of moving swift and silent, and for this I need you to do so. Cut the threads of the Glenmoril Witches’ wyrd short, and let us test an old man’s hope. If all goes well, then I would wish to speak to you again as often as you’d like, for I have much to share with you, and I would give you counsel, if you would take it.”
I smiled – how could I not? Even though I fully expected to be chastised, and with good reason, instead I was given reassurance, and the words I needed to hear. Kodlak…a wise man, and a good one. I needed no more encouragement, but I drained my mead and rose from the chair, nodding solemnly. ”You have my word, then. I’ll be back on the morrow with the prize. I do not know your gods, but I will pray to mine that it’s more than just a hope.”
“Then I will thank you, Dreema,” Kodlak said with a nod. ”And I will see you tomorrow evening.”
And so, with a new task given me, I strode up to the Skyforge to have my blade sharpened, stowed the sway for the Thieves’ Guild in the trunk at the foot of my bed, then managed to get enough sleep to prepare myself for the journey out. As I strode out into the night, I glimpsed Kodlak standing on the steps of the Skyforge, gazing up at the moons. I can see it clearly even today. I’m glad I have that memory.
