Jorrvaskr
Sonin approached the man known as Kodlak Whitemane, the Harbinger of the Companions. He had kind eyes and wore an honest smile as I hesitantly approached him. There was another man in the chair opposite of him, but his expression was far from welcoming. The red-headed woman she met outside of the city said she should join, and frankly, she had no real reason to say no. Sonin knew very little about the Companions other than they were a band of warriors often regarded by Nords as honorable. It was enough to go with though since she could always leave if she didn’t like it.
“A stranger approaches us,” Whitemane announced to the grumpy man at the table, ending the conversation they were having. “What brings you to our hall?”
“I’m Sonin and I was invited to join your ranks by Aela after I helped her take down a giant outside the city,” Sonin explained, “I am interested in becoming a member of the Companions if you’ll have me.”
“Would you now? Here, let me have a look at you. Hm. Yes, perhaps. A certain strength of spirit,” the older warrior said to me.
Before she could respond, the other companion interrupted, “Master, you're not truly considering accepting her. She looks like she hasn’t had to fight in her life.” Oh boy were you wrong, she thought.
“I am nobody's master, Vilkas. And last I checked, we had some empty beds in Jorrvaskr for those with a fire burning in their hearts,” Whiteman replied.
Vilkas showed a face of shame, “Apologies. But perhaps this isn't the time. I've never even heard of this outsider.”
“Sometimes the famous come to us. Sometimes men and women come to us to seek their fame. It makes no difference. What matters is their heart,” the Harbinger continued.
“And their arm,” Vilkas added as though she wasn’t in the room.
Sonin cleared my throat, bringing Whitemane’s attention back to me, “Of course. How are you in a battle, girl?”
“I have a lot to learn, but I’m no damsel in distress. If that’s what you were worried about Vilkas,” she put a hand to her hip to emphasize her point. “I’ve trained at the College of Winterhold since I was a child. I’ve lived and breathed destructive and restorative magic just about my whole life. That being said, don’t expect much from my arm. I tend to never let my enemies get close enough to strike.”
“That's the spirit. Vilkas, here, will get started on that learning. Take her out back and test her arm,” Whiteman instructed Vilkas.
She followed him to their training courtyard in silence. Vilkas looked like he was fuming, in fact, she imagined steam escaping from his ears to amuse herself and take her mind off the awkward tension. Vilkas led them to the middle of the yard before he turned to her.
“Alright whelp, swing at me. Don’t worry, I’m sure I can take any hits you have to offer,” He smirked at his insult.
“Are you an ass like this to everyone, or am I just special to you?” Sonin countered, winking. Having caught him off guard, she quickly grabbed the small silver dagger she kept inside of the robed part of her armor.
Vilkas caught on just in time to block the attack with the edge of his longsword but staggered at the impact. Without giving him time to get clear footing she swung again, catching his shield as he fell back on his ass. She took a few measured steps back and laughed, hand to her gut.
“What was that about you being able to handle me?” Sonin gloated.
“Next time won’t be so easy,” he grumbled as he rose up. “You are still just a whelp here. Take my sword up to Eorlund at the Skyfordge, and be careful with it. It’s worth more than your life.”
“Oh, I doubt that,” She rolled her eyes and reluctantly took the sword up to the forge.
While she was there Eorlund, a very kind man, informed her that she needn’t take orders from anyone and that Vilkas is like this with all newcomers. After having a short conversation with him, she agreed to take the shield he repaired for Aela to her.
Vilkas was sulking on his way back through the hall and to the living quarters. Aela and his brother Farkas had been watching his exchange with the newcomer. He felt a wave of embarrassment and anger flow through him. They surely would not be letting him live this down.
He collapsed on his bed covered with furs. He didn’t bother stripping off his armor because he knew his condition was going to keep him from getting restful sleep anyways. Vilkas ran his hands down his face. Why was he thinking about her, and what was that smell on her? He pondered it for a moment. He could hear her heart beating out of nervousness and the blood rushing through her veins. She had a floral scent, but under it was a slight musk that was intoxicating. Vilkas grew even more frustrated, unable to place what his wolf was sensing at the moment.
“I heard you gave Vilkas quite the thrashing,” Aela said with a smile to Sonin as she handed her her shield.
“Don’t let him catch you saying that,” a battle-hardened man known as Skjor commented.
“Wouldn’t want to hurt his ego any further,” she remarked, “Farkas!”
A heavy giant of a man came running to her call, “You called?” He asked.
“Yes icebrain,” she replied, “show this whelp to the living quarters.”
“A newcomer huh?” Farkas stated more than questioned, “Follow me.”
“Uh, I know we just met but...are you okay with her insulting you like that?” Sonin asked as they walked to the other end of the hall.
“Oh Aela is just joking, she’s like that. Skjor says I have the strength of Ysgramor, and my brother has his smarts,” he smiled at her, “oh, my twin brother is Vilkas. You already met him.”
“I doubt that’s true, you don’t seem to be an idiot,” Sonin replied as they reached the room.
“You don’t know me well,” he laughed, “here is where you will be staying. Just pick an empty bed and fall in it. Welcome to the Companions”
“Thank you Farkas,” Sonin smiled at him, “I appreciate your kindness. It’s comically opposite of your brother.”
“Vilkas is like that sometimes. Try not to take it to heart,” Farkas said as he left her to the room.
Sonin collapsed into a bed, too tired from her travels here to even care to wash up first. She slept rather soundly, given that she was in a new place surrounded by strangers. When she awoke the next morning she found her way to a washing area. The soap she used was of her own creation, lavender with honey and juniper berries. Sonin took pleasure in being truly clean for the first time in weeks. Sure, she hit the occasional river or lake on her travels, but it wasn’t the same as having the time and resources to actually scrub every inch of her body.
Sonin dressed in a pair of leather leggings and a cotton shirt that left her collarbones and a little cleavage exposed. She wasn’t someone who was considered well endowed, or at least she didn’t think so, but she had a sizable chest. No one would be mistaking her for a man. When she climbed the stairs to the hall, her hair tied up in a damp bun and an amulet of Akatosh around her neck, she drew too many eyes to feel comfortable. The other members of the Companions she had not met yet were all sizing her up. She knew she didn’t look like much. Her face was plain, her stature short, and her body soft. Sonin could feel her every eye on her and heard a few whispers.
Before she managed to say anything, Farkas called her over from the end of the table. Exhaling the breath she didn’t know she was holding, she made her way to him. She was calculated in her movements as to not look like she was rushing over. Sonin took the empty seat next to Farkas and accepted the chunk of bread he offered her.
“I see you found the bath,” Farkas remarked taking a deep inhale.
“Oh, you smell the soap?” Sonin commented on his action.
“It smells good,” he complimented.
“Thank you, it’s my own blend,” Sonin grinned at his words. She wasn’t accustomed to men being friendly to her without wanting something from her, although she wasn’t entirely sure if he didn’t want something.
“Have you met anyone outside of the circle?” He asked.
“I have not,” Sonin replied.
“Everyone, this is our newcomer,” Farkas announced to the hall as if they weren’t already watching her.
A few members stood from their meals and made their way over to talk to her. There was a drunken man named Torvar who proclaimed her his new best drinking buddy. A dumner, Athis, introduced himself and offered to give her some training with that dagger on her thigh. Ria, a woman, informed her that she was the most recent member and proceeded to tell Sonin an unsolicited story of how she killed a bear yesterday. Sonin smiled at the idea of killing a bear being an accomplishment compared to the dragons she had taken out alone.
“It’s great to meet you all,” Sonin replied to them all, “If you ever need some help with healing, I’d be more than happy to assist.”
“It’s been a while since we had a mage here. I can’t remember a single one,” Farkas commented. He suddenly grabbed her shoulder and shouted across the room, “Brother! Join us in welcoming Sonin.”
Vilkas responded by glaring at her in silence, then walking out to the yard. Sonin sighed, unsure what exactly his problem was. She thought back on their sparing the previous night and recalled a startled expression on his face when he saw her blade. He had to have known she was armed.
“Is that a silver dagger?” Athis commented from the chair beside her.
Farkas offered a surprised expression like his brother had, glancing over her to see the weapon as she spoke, “Yes. It was my mother’s, and her mother’s before her. She was rather fearful of the supernatural and wanted some extra protection against it.”
Farkas winced at her words, but Sonin did not see it. Sonin stood up and gave a small stretch, thanking everyone for the introductions and heading to the training yard. She decided to take Athis up on his offer now rather than later. Farkas followed them out, needing to speak to his brother.
Athis and Sonin took lunges at each other while Farkas and Vilkas watched, “Did you see her blade?” Vilkas asked his brother.
“Yeah,” Farkas replied.
“Do you think she’s with the Silver hand?” Vilkas asked.
“Don’t think so. It would be stupid to knowingly wield that around us,” Farkas responded.
“I don’t trust her,” Vilkas stated as Sonin took a tumble and laughed as Athis offered a hand to help her up.
“She seems nice,” Farkas defended her.
“To you maybe. I know she’s hiding something,” Vilkas pushed.
“She smells nice too,” Farkas said, taking another sharp sniff of the air.
“She smells, sure,” Vilkas quipped.
“You worry too much brother,” Farkas said as he gave a heavy pat on his brother’s back. “I’ll be taking her to Dustman's Cairn.”
“What? No, I should be the one judging her, “ Vilkas argued.
“It was Kodlak’s wish,” Farkas stated, and Vilkas said no more on the matter.
Sonin walked up to the twins, her forehead glistening. Neither of them could quite place her ethnicity. She had light hazel eyes, brown hair that looked copper in the sun, and her skin was close to that of the typical Nord. She reached for a tankard and poured herself water from the barrel. They both had their eyes trained on her. Vilkas, out of suspension, and Farkas, admiring her cleavage.
Sonin looked at them with a raised brow, “is there something on me?”
Farkas was the one to answer, “No. You looked good out there.”
She blushed, “Oh you don’t have to lie to me for my sake. I know where my skills lay.”
“You have a lot of training to do if you want to join our ranks fully,” Vilkas remarked.
“I got some training for you,” Sonin countered, Farkas laughing at the rebuttal.
“Do you need to be taught your place, whelp?” Vilkas threatened.
“You mean on the dirt? Cause that’s where I left you last time,” She replied with a grin.
Some other members of the companions were outside at this point, watching the exchange with amusement, “Let’s see you say that now that I won’t hold back.”
“Alright, but I’m going to stay holding back. I don’t want to kill you. Well, maybe that’s not true,” she said as she slinked back to the yard.
Vilkas clashed his shield and sword together to make a display of dominance. Sonin was not impressed, drawing her dagger from its sheath. By this point, all the Companions were outside watching, including Kodlak. Vilkas was so focused on Sonin he didn’t notice the crowd that had gathered.
“It’s not too late to back down now,” he announced to her.
“Have to remind yourself?” Sonin turned his remark against him.
“That’s it,” he rushed her.
Sonin held her place until he moved to bash her with his shield. She jumped back from the shield and ducked to miss the swing of his sword. Vilkas was at a speed disadvantage both from his heavy armor and his heavier weapons. Sonin had no doubt that he had more stamina than her. She needed to end it quickly, trying not to resort to magic.
Vilkas changed his stance and struck with his sword straight down, Sonin catching the sword with her dagger. He had the advantage of strength and tried to force her down to submission. Sonin took notice and prepared her body to roll out. His sword struck the ground as she barely moved out of the way in time.
At this point, Sonin was already winded and Vilkas knew it. His wolf could sense her lungs heaving and her heartbeat racing. His eyes caught the light reflecting off of the sweat now coating her body. Her cotton shirt started to cling to her, showing some of her curves. Vilkas could tell that she was not as hardened as the other women here. She looked more like a tavern wench than a warrior.
This time Sonin charged with her silver blade. Vilkas forced the dagger out of her hand by clashing it to his sword, then proceeded to knock the wind out of her with his shield. She hit the ground hard, really hard. Her back crashed against the stone wall. Farkas felt his body tense and prepared itself to rush in and stop his brother, he held nothing back in that bash. Sonin coughed up a little blood and could feel herself wheezing. She may be dragonborn, but she was not built with a dragon’s durability.
Vilkas stalked up to her with a shit-eating grin on his face, infuriating her. He crouched down over her, “Ready to surrender?”
“You wish,” She smiled.
Vilkas looked at her confused and leaned closer to her face, “You’ve been disarmed, how do you possibly hope to win this, whelp? Do you think you can brawl me to defeat?”
“Oh no, I may be young but I’m far from stupid. In fact, I have you right where I want you,” before Vilkas could offer a smartass response, Sonin lunged at him and conjured a sword with her magic, placing it against his throat before he could draw his own sword.
“Magic?” He spat, “you wouldn’t be able to beat me without it. Real warriors don’t need to rely on tricks.”
“Tricks? Oh this blade is very real,” she pressed it into his skin, not drawing blood but making the skin move. She leaned into his ear to whisper so only he could hear it, “Never forget this Vilkas, I am never unarmed.”
Of course, the whole circle heard what she said thanks to their wolf senses. Aela was gleaming with pride at Sonin, knowing she did well by offering her a place here. Farkas’ body finally released its tension. Skjor was silent, as was Whitemane. The other companions cheered as she dispelled her sword and raised her hand up in victory toward them. Vilkas did not offer her a hand up and walked away without a word. Sonin didn’t get up immediately, and Farkas felt a prick of panic as she coughed up more blood. He rushed over to her, but she held up a hand to stop him. Her other hand was to her chest, an orange glow pouring over it. Healing magic.
In a few moments, Sonin was back on her feet and wiping the blood from her chin, “he really wasn’t kidding about not holding back.” She rubbed her back, sensing a bruise forming.
“Does it hurt?” Farkas asked, leaning over to look at her back as though the clothing wasn’t preventing him from seeing anything.
Sonin laughed, “I can handle it Farkas,” she put a hand on his bicep, “I appreciate your concern.”
Farkas offered her no verbal response but nodded his head. Sonin made her way back to the bathing room to quickly wipe away the sweat and dirt from her skin. She took a healing potion to clear up the bruise on her back. She hated the idea of getting hurt so easily. She slipped back into her shirt and leggings, adjusting the band for her dagger back on her upper thigh.
Sonin returned to the mead hall, cutting off some deer that was roasting above the fire. Vilkas was there sitting in a corner on a bench, sulking. She sighed before taking her plate of meat over toward him. Vilkas eyed her as she approached, stiffening. There was that smell again.
Sonin pushed her plate in front of him, “Here, you need to eat. Don’t let one fight get in the way of your health.”
Vilkas pushed her offer to the side, “Be concerned about yourself, whelp, not me. I don’t need to be mothered.”
“You really are something huh?” Sonin scoffed, “Do you just reject the idea of anyone trying to be nice to you?”
“If you want someone to be nice, talk to my brother. That idiot is friendly to everyone,” Vilkas spat.
“Hey,” Sonin barked, getting his surprised attention, “Shut the hell up. If you don’t appreciate your brother that’s your problem, not his. You’re lucky to have some real family alive, you should treasure him. Not insult him. Some of us have actually lost everyone and are truly alone,” Sonin heard her voice crack at the end. She cursed herself in her head for showing weakness.
“Whelp-”
“Forget it. People like you just want to be miserable and bring everyone down with you. I’m not interested. I won’t bother you again,” she waved him off as she walked away.
Vilkas felt a pang of regret. If he took a moment to think before he spoke, he would have considered that her smile approaching him was honest and took into account the pain on her face when he swatted her plate away. He watched as she took her plate to the living quarters and he felt her breath rattle as she tried to collect herself from her outburst. Vilkas placed his face into his hands, contemplating his image of his brother.
Sonin raised a hand up and knocked on the room door that belonged to Farkas. He opened the doors wide and greeted her.
“Is it okay if I sit in here with you for a while?” She asked him, too nervous to meet his eyes directly.
“Sure. Make yourself at home. Is that deer?” He looked at her plate.
“Oh yeah, here take what you want. I lost my appetite,” she handed him the plate, which he took happily.
“It’s really nice in here,” Sonin commented, taking in her surroundings as she sat at his bar.
“You think so?” Farkas questioned.
Sonin took another moment to look around, “Yeah. Cute little bar, impressive weapons on the wall, and- let me be clear- I would kill for those furs.” She made a motion to direct his attention to the sabre cat snow pelt on his bed.
“I killed it myself,” he beamed.
“I have no doubt,” Sonin returned his smile in earnest. She liked Farkas, he was very kind.
“Book?” was all he managed to say between bites of venison, looking at the tome she placed on his bar.
“It’s a new spell I’ve been working on. I’ve been able to cast wards on myself, but this one will teach me how to cast one on someone else,” Sonin looked at the pages covered in words, “I love to read, honestly. It was one of my few comforts as a child.”
Farkas could sense the tone shift with the end of her statement, “Well my brother likes to read too. Maybe you two could talk about that.”
“Does your brother like anything? Truly?” Sonin laughed.
“Yes. He’s just no good with people. He likes to joke too. Some people don't think I'm smart. Those people get my fist. But you, I like,” he stated.
Sonin could feel some heat rise to her face and to lower areas. She turned to face her book as to not let him see her approval. Farkas didn’t need to see it though, he smelt it. She was aroused, and it was intoxicating. He could feel his inner wolf try to climb to the surface. Images flashed through his head of her under him, panting as he rutted into her. Farkas couldn’t lie to his wolf and say he wasn’t attracted to the woman, but he still knew too little to take it anywhere. Not yet at least.
Sonin sat in silence at the bar reading, but she had a hard time focusing on the words. She could feel that her smallclothes were damp and she tried to fight off thoughts of Farkas naked. Surely, he had a perfect body.
“Would you like a drink?” Farkas asked after about an hour of silence passed between them.
“I wouldn’t say no,” Sonin replied.
Farkas went behind his bar and pulled out two tankards, “Are you more of a wine or mead person?”
“Mead,” she replied and her eyes widened as he pulled out honey mead.
He took notice, “Do you like honey?”
“Do I like it? It’s only the greatest thing to ever exist,” she eyed the bottle.
Apparently she really liked honey because Farkas could sense her arousal again. He smirked as he poured her some. She took it with many thanks and sipped it, savoring every drop. Farkas threw his back and poured himself another. He admired how her hair and eyes seemed to match the mead.
“What are you?” Farkas asked.
“What-what do you mean?” Sonin was taken aback.
“Sorry, what are your parents?” He questioned.
“Oh uh, well my parents were both traders. We traveled a lot,” Sonin replied, not quite catching his real meaning.
“But what are they?” He tried again.
Sonin finally caught his drift, “Ah! My father was a Nord and my mother was Breton. That’s why I don’t seem to match anyone here.”
“That makes sense,” he stated, topping off her drink.
Farkas stayed behind the bar as he took his third tankard of mead slower. Sonin was focusing on her tome. It was starting to get late, but Farkas didn’t want to kick her out. Truthfully, he wanted her to stay. He liked her scent, liked her being there. His thoughts were interrupted when his door swung open and his brother appeared, marching in the room then stopping short when he realised he wasn’t Farkas’ only visitor.
“What are you doing here? This late?” Vilkas asked in an accusatory manner.
“What’s your problem? Didn’t you suggest that I should talk to your brother and not you?” She fired back.
“I need to speak to my brother. Alone,” he stated.
“I guess it is late. Thank you Farkas for the drinks and the company,” Sonin reached her hand to his arm, pressing it before getting off the bar stool and leaving with her book. “I’ll be ready to leave early in the morning.”
Vilkas could smell her sex as she walked by, immediatly feeling upset. What the exact emotion was, anger, jealousy, or protectiveness, he didn’t know. Nor was he about to reflect on it. Vilkas knew she was going to be trouble if she tried to pursue his brother romantically.
“What did you need to talk about?” Farkas asked as Sonin closed the door, watching the way her wide hips swayed.
…
Sonin and Farkas headed out to Dustman's Cairn at the crack of dawn. Farkas was wearing heavy steel plated armor and wielding a greatsword. Sonin wore a piece that she had made herself. She wore leather boots that reach up her thighs under a shortened robe with splits down the sides. She had added protection to her robes by wearing a leather corset over them with some light leather shoulder pads. It was unique, for sure. Farkas couldn’t help but notice that the corset did a lot to applify her breasts, which were sizable on their own. He also glanced at her thighs while she rode her horse in front of him. He could see the few inches of exposed skin between her boots and the beginning of the slip in her robe. It was distracting.
It took most of the day to make it to Dustman's Cairn, so Farkas decided they would set up camp and rest before heading in. Sonin offered no resistance, feeling tired herself. They sat by their small fire, eating the salted meats and bread they brought with them.
“Hey, Farkas?” Sonin asked, drawing his attention, “can I ask you some questions?”
“Sure, but I’m not much of a talker. My brother is,” he replied.
“Why did you join the Companions?” she questioned.
“Vilkas and I have been here since we were little whelps. Our father, Jergen, raised us here. Even Vignar couldn't remember Companions younger than us!" He exclaimed.
“Who are the Companions, to you?” She continued.
“The Companions are my family. We fight so that other people don't have to. We bring honor and glory to ourselves and each other,” he answered.
“Do you have a stance on the war right now?” Sonin asked.
“Too confusing for me. Empire, Nords, Talos. Who cares? Just tell me who needs bludgeoning," Farkas stated.
“That is a very practical opinion,” Sonin chuckled, “I haven’t really made up my mind on it. I’ve had offers to join the Imperials and the Stormcloaks. Both make some good points, but the war just seems like everyone is going to lose regardless of the victor.”
“Then don’t pick a side,” Farkas replied, taking another bite of his food.
“It sounds so easy when you say it,” she laughed.
“It is,” he responded, “there’s no need for you to get involved.”
Sonin sighed, knowing that she had to choose for the sake of Skyrim. She was the dragonborn, it was her job to save Skyrim from the dragons and that won’t be possible until she can get everyone on the same page about the threat. That won’t happen until the war has a victor.
“Can I ask you some questions?” Farkas asked, surprising her.
“Of course, anything,” she replied.
“You said your parents were travellers. Are they no longer?” He questioned innocently.
“My parents are dead. Have been for about thirteen years now,” she started. Farkas didn’t ask her to explain, but she did anyway. She felt so comfortable around him, “We were on our way to Winterhold when a gang of bandits attacked. My father tried to talk them down, so they rewarded him with an arrow through the eye. My mother’s only thought at that point was to save me. She drew their attention and made an opening for me to run away. Just as the bandits noticed me, my mother used her life force to power a spell strong enough to take out the entire area. I was only a few feet out of the range of the explosion when it happened. I went back to see if either of my parents were alive. They were both just charred skeletons and all our supplies were ash,” a single tear fell down her cheek, but her voice didn’t waiver, “I barely made it to Winterhold before I nearly died from frostbite. The college took me in after they heard about what my mother did. They expected me to be able to perform magical feats also, so they gave me food, shelter, and an education.”
“Sounds like you made a home for yourself,” Farkas stated.
“It would appear that way but...it was cold. Not just literally, but there were no loving emotions. It was always study and practice all day, every day. No one comforted or caudaled me. The other students bullied me, or avoided me altogether. It was a hopeless feeling. So the only thing I could do to cope was to throw all of my being into my studies and learn as much as possible until I was skilled and old enough to go off on my own,” Sonin looked over to Farkas, “I was top of my class, by the way.”
“Sounds rough,” Farkas grunted.
“Could have been worse. At least I never went hungry,” She shrugged.
“Vilkas and I were lucky to be brought to Jorrvaskr. Before we only had each other, but we made family here,” he looked into the fire, clearly deep in thought.
“You know for someone who jokes that they aren’t smart, you do think deeply,” Sonin commented.
He was taken aback by that, “You think so?”
“I can see it in your face. Try to be easier on yourself. There’s no need for you to be compared to your brother, you are your own being,” She smiled at him while tucking herself into her bedroll, “Goodnight.”
“Night,” was all Farkas could muster in response.