Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

Dragonheart: Trials of the Arch Mage	By : Lady_Kae Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls - Skyrim Views: 1754 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own TESV Skyrim nor am I making any money from this fiction.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Dragonheart: Trials of the Archmage
Chapter 1: A Slight Detour
An Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim Fanfiction

Adaptation? This wasn’t a matter of adaptation. Farkas had been wrong to think such a thing. No, he was getting very overwhelmed by the sights before him and he was unsure how much longer he could play it off as nothing. Buildings greater than any fortress or castle that he had ever seen reached skyward, their windows glistening in the sunlight. He could see it even from here and they were at least four leagues out of the city proper! He felt a hand on his shoulder and Farkas turned to look over at Tarrowlyn. She had a sad smile on her face and he patted her hand with a heavy sigh.

“If you think Riften looks huge from here, Whiterun, Windhelm, and Solitude are going to be completely unrecognizable. Even Falkreath will feel foreign to you, but I hope that I can rectify this as soon as I can for you.” Tarrowlyn whispered sadly as she fell into step beside him again. She was still wearing her bloody robes, as she didn’t have a change of clothing, and she had done all she could to heal the gashes on her face. There would definitely be some scarring, but Farkas found he liked the way she looked with it. Her horse; as they had come to learn upon their exit of Mzulft, had run off some time ago, though the possibility that it had been chased off by wolves was greater. They were stuck hoofing it for now.

“How long would it take us to get to your ma’s on foot?” Farkas asked. He was not in the mood to stop right now. What he needed was some strong mead and a bed to pass out in for a while. There were a few other things that he could use, but that was neither here nor there right now. He would be able to hold out for a while yet.

“A day and a half. Just let me go in long enough to get some provisions from the supermarket, maybe a sleeping bag or two, and a twelve pack of my favorite alcoholic beverage. I daresay both of us need a strong drink after the day we’ve had.” Tarrowlyn replied. She could tell that bringing him into the city proper was a bad idea right now, which meant fresh clothing would have to wait. But she could get some measuring tape, take his sizes later for when they got to Falkreath…

“I’ll go with you. I…” Farkas began and he swallowed harder than he meant to. “…I don’t want to be alone right now. It’s too much.” He admitted.

Tarrowlyn’s eyes filled with tears and she eased one arm around his middle. It was uncomfortable to do this against his steel armor, but Farkas needed comfort. One of his arms rose up and settled on her shoulder in acceptance and she felt his fingers toy with the strands of red that were in reach. “ I’m sorry.” She whispered sadly. They held the embrace for a few minutes and Farkas cleared his throat after a moment. She began to guide the way into the city proper but she paused when she felt something warm take her by the hand. Sure enough, Farkas had taken hold of it, whether to make sure they didn’t lose one another or for comfort, the mage wasn’t sure, but Tarrowlyn wasn’t going to make him let her go. “Let’s get this done as fast as we can.”
Farkas nodded stiffly as he allowed Tarrowlyn to take the lead. He was apprehensive, tense. What would he find here? After about an hour or so they entered the city proper and as they trekked down the busy street, Farkas felt his apprehension leaving him as pure wonder and awe took precedence.
Walkways abounded overhead, connecting the large buildings. People were sitting at tables and on benches, talking and eating happily among plants that seemed to dominate every bit of free space there was available. Some of the flora he knew was native to Cyrodiil and Skyrim, but a lot of it he had never seen before in his life. With them on the ground level were even more people than he thought possible, several races of mer, khajiit and human milled about as they went to their destinations. The one thing that caught his eye the most were mechanical contraptions that people were riding around in like they would a carriage!
“Wow! Just wow!” he exclaimed softly, now wishing that he had three hundred sixty degree vision. “Do all the hold capitals look like this?” He turned around to take it all in and he smiled broadly. His eyes were alight as he took everything in, and he looked to Tarrowlyn as he waited for her reply.
Tarrowlyn smiled at his reaction, inwardly relieved that he wasn’t as put off about all the changes around him as they had feared. “If you think Riften is impressive with all the flora, they have nothing on Falkreath proper. If you have ever been to Valenwood, its close to that sans the moving trees. As for that…” Tarrowlyn pointed to the automaton that was just passing them on the road nearby. “...that is what is known as a magi-car. Have you ever come across a dwemer centurion?”
“A few times. They’re bastards to put down.” Farkas replied. He had come across one or two in his travels and he had been intrigued on how they worked. “So they run on steam power and soul gems, huh?”
“That they do. I wasn’t expecting you to know that in all honesty.” Tarrowlyn was definitely surprised at that and she looked over her shoulder to Farkas with a grin. “ Do you know much about them?”
Farkas shook his head and he slowly walked over to where one was parked. “ I only know what they run on, not the hows. What about you?” His silver-azure gaze looked up and over to where Tarrowlyn was on the other side of the magi-car. On the surface, the look he was giving her was curious, questioning, probing even.
Her breath caught in her throat as she looked deeper into those beautiful eyes. His gaze was piercing, calm yet wild at the same time. There was so much intensity, yet tenderness at the same time. Tarrowlyn had never met someone as honest, as genuine, as Farkas in her short life. She smiled as she joined Farkas on the other side, unable to meet his eyes due to the blush on her cheeks. Hopefully he won’t notice it...she thought to herself. Then again, my face is still covered in a thin sheen of blood that I wasn’t able to clean off yet. “ Unfortunately, same here. My brother Mikhail knows better than I do though. Maybe I can talk him into bringing his over to my ma’s and he can explain them to you?”
Farkas smirked as he not only saw the blush, but he leaned in closer to her, just enough to let his body heat be felt. “ I think I’d like that.” he purred softly, flirtatiously near her ear. He had to hold back a chuckle as Tarrowlyn’s blush grew brighter and fiercer, forcing her temperature to shoot sky high in both embarrassment and excitement. Too easy...he mused.
Tarrowlyn looked at her boots as she tried to battle the rouge staining her cheeks. “Let’s get over to the store to get the items that we’re needing. We might be able to get you some new clothing after all and a knapsack to carry everything in.” she stammered out, but just barely. By the nine, flirting was not her forte, but she’d be a liar to deny how much she was enjoying it. Her male contemporaries at the college never held any appeal to her. They were much too competitive, much too overbearing and they often spoke down to the female students as if they were less than worthy of gracing the halls of the arcane school. Her brow furrowed as she thought of at least three such examples, though it smoothed out when she realized that she had a living, breathing result from her experiment. “ The store I’m talking about should be over this way.”
Farkas smiled as he nodded and he stayed close to Tarrowlyn so as not to lose her in the crowd. It seemed to be getting thicker, more concentrated as they came to a familiar looking sign. Well, that was one thing that had stayed the same even after all these years. How much had remained? “All you had to say was that we were going into a general store. Granted this one is a one stop shop, but it’s still the same thing.” he commented with a grin. He could see potions ingredients along the far wall to his left, along with all the supplies needed to fully stock an alchemy lab. Armor and weapons were on display and he barely caught the smell of a forge nearby. The smoke was inside, so the forge and it’s master had to be attached to the store in some way or another. A large selection of clothing was almost directly in front of them towards the back corner and a sea of grocery items dominated a third of the store by themselves. Some of the foods were familiar, as they were what he was used to having grown up in Skyrim. A good chunk of them were foreign and he smiled. Maybe he could talk Tarrowlyn into getting some of them for him to try while they were traveling.
The apprehension was gone. All Farkas wanted to do now was explore this fascinating new world. This was Skyrim, eight ages in the future! What all had happened? Would he be able to learn anything new? What would become of him if Tarrowlyn couldn’t get him back after all? What was there for him here?
“This one has a section for groceries, alchemy, and enchanting supplies as well. It’s one of three like this in Skyrim. The other two are in Markarth and Whiterun. What we need is over here. Thankfully they have a washroom available for folks like us, so we can not only get changed, but cleaned up. I should probably get this looked at while we’re here.” Tarrowlyn explained as they found the clothing section.
“Are there more healers than you can shake a fist at? They were in short supply and mostly regulated to priests and priestesses where I came from.” Farkas asked. He was already looking through some of the clothing and his brow furrowed. These styles were definitely not what he was used to. “I might need your help Tarrowlyn.”
“I’m already looking Farkas. Standard fourth era wear was trousers, boots, jerkin, and vest right?” the mage replied in a sing song voice. “As for healers, there are mages like myself who specialize in restoration magicks over the other schools, and there are also lay healers that utilize skill as opposed to the arcane. The best practices are those that have partners that are one of each. The doctor that I’ve been seeing since I was a child practices here in Riften.”
Farkas nodded silently in understanding and Tarrowlyn walked over to him while holding up a blue shirt as if to gauge his size. “Yes to your question. I prefer red or black if it’ll fit.”
“Noted. I think I need to go up one more size. Just how tall are you?” Tarrowlyn pondered aloud and she walked back over to the clothing rack.
“Six foot, seven inches if you really must know. I was just measured by the smith a month ago.” Farkas answered, though he knew Tarrowlyn was in her own little world. He laughed when she stumbled a bit and she looked up at him in shock. “No, I’m not joking.”
“Did he get any other measurements?” Tarrowlyn squeaked. No wonder she felt so tiny against him. He was more than a foot taller than she was after all.
Farkas smirked as he leaned in close. “That depends. Would you prefer to get your own?” he purred flirtatiously. Seeing Tarrowlyn turn bright red was more than reward enough, and he chortled as he drew back.
Tarrowlyn was nearly the same shade of red as her hair and she turned back to the rack in an effort to find something Farkas would like. She had always been so preoccupied with her studies that she had never really paid much mind to the menfolk. Flirting, whether it be blatant or subtle, truly was foreign territory for the mage. What had Tarrowlyn even more flustered was that she was enjoying it very much. Her eyes lit up as they settled on a three quarter sleeved shirt with a drawstring at the collar, and it had a scarf to go with it. Both were enchanted to help fend off the effects of unsavory weather. “Let’s see if this’ll fit you! That and these jeans. We’ll figure out what size shoe you wear in a minute.”
Farkas took the items in hand and he sighed in annoyance despite the fact that he was following her somewhere in the store. He wasn’t looking forward to dealing with the fashions of this time, but he had to keep appearances up for now.
The elderly matron tending to the fitting rooms smiled when she saw the two coming up to her counter. “Do you need to use the washrooms first my dears? You poor things look like you’ve been run through fire and brimstone.” she commented sweetly.
“Yes, please. He’ll also be needing to try these on to be sure that they fit right. Do you have someone on hand who can make the minor alterations if they’re just a tad snug?” Tarrowlyn replied. Farkas just stayed quiet. It wasn’t as if he knew what was needed in this case.
The old woman grinned. “I can handle it myself dearie. Did you need a change of clothing as well? It’s surprising a mage like yourself was wounded as badly as you were.”
“I’m about to go grab something for myself in a moment. This gentleman here will be needing a rucksack to carry his armor in, as well as some standard camping gear if you don’t mind as well. We’re traveling on foot to Falkreath.” Tarrowlyn answered, skirting around the issue of her injury. Her mother was going to have kittens when she saw it for that matter and her last surviving brother would never let her live it down. “Will you be alright for a few Farkas?”
“I should be. It’s a bathing room, not too hard to figure it out.” the warrior replied with a cocky grin.

His brains were most certainly not his strong suit. There were knobs, buttons, and dials all over the place. Worse yet, Farkas was alone in the room. Thank the gods that there was a full tub that he could utilize for now. Once he had bathed himself, Farkas looked to the clothing that had been laid out for him. Tarrowlyn had sent in some small clothes for him, though they were unlike anything he had ever seen in his time. They looked like a pair of cut off trousers, worst yet they looked as if they would ride high on his thighs. With a shrug, Farkas put them on and his brow rose in surprise. These were surprisingly comfortable!
Next came the trousers that Tarrowlyn had referred to as jeans. They were a deep blue in color, and they felt sturdy in his grip. The zipper was easy enough to figure out, buttons he was used to. Farkas drew them over his hips, and he smiled once more at how well Tarrowlyn had done in picking something that fit him. Like the small clothes that she had sent in, the pants fit well and they were ridiculously comfortable.
“Are you decent yet?” Tarrowlyn asked. There was only one washroom available and Farkas was still in it.
“Yeah. Just need to get the tunic on.” Farkas replied.
Tarrowlyn walked into the room with a small bundle under her arm and she smiled as she looked at him. “I’m glad to see I got your waist sized right. Let’s just hope I was on the mark with the shirt.” she told him. A small blush covered her cheeks as she looked at the man before her. He was busy pulling on the shirt that she had chosen for him, and thus was oblivious to her perusal.
Farkas was built as if the goddesses had chiseled him straight out of marble. His shoulders led into a toned, and well built torso. She had never really liked the look of muscle definition on men; as they normally went overboard in an attempt to impress their preferred gender, but Farkas would look odd without the well defined pecs. A smattering of ebony covered them, leading down in a single trail between tightly packed abs and Tarrowlyn licked her lips. Her mouth watered as his muscles rolled and rippled as he eased his arms into the short sleeves. By Dibella, Tarrowlyn was going to get herself in trouble if she kept ogling him like this.
As wrong as it was, she definitely liked what she was looking at.
“It’s a bit tight over my shoulders and chest, but the woman out front said she could fix that, right?” Farkas replied as he gave the hem a few tugs to get it sitting right. What fabric was this made out of? Seriously, everything Tarrowlyn had given him was so much more comfortable against his skin than anything he had ever worn before.
“Yeah. She’s also going to take your shoe size so we can get you into a pair of shoes or boots that you’ll like from this time.” Tarrowlyn replied. She was looking away, feeling ashamed and embarrassed of herself for acting like a hormonal tweener. She hadn’t been this bad since she had gone through puberty!
“What about the bag for my armor?” Farkas grabbed the scarf, though he scowled when he saw his hair in the mirror. It was a mess and he had no means of combing it at the moment. “Do you have a comb or anything?”
Tarrowlyn shook her head. “The rucksack is out there with the rest of everything I’m purchasing. Once we know what size you’re in, we can get you about a weeks worth of clothing to tide you over for now. It’s a good thing we stopped here. None of my brothers or my pa’s things would have fit you. Where your hair is concerned, the only thing I have is an hair tie. Sit down, I’ll pull it up for you for now to get it out of the way.”
Farkas’ brow arched in curiosity. “A hair tie?”
Tarrowlyn grew something stretchy out from under the wraps on her wrist and she smiled. “I have a feeling this is about to become your best friend while you’re here.” she giggled. Farkas sat on the bench while shaking his head at the same time, obviously confused. Tarrowlyn smiled as she ran her fingers through his damp locks gently, easing out the worst of the snags and snarls. She heard him groan in delight as her nails worked gently against his scalp as she gathered his hair and her blush returned with a vengeance. This was something so intimate, so personal with someone she barely knew. I’m definitely in trouble. the mage thought to herself.
Farkas had gone to Aetherius. He had never had a woman play with his hair before, but what Tarrowlyn was doing felt really damn good. His scalp was tingling pleasantly from the light touches and scratches against it as she gathered his hair up and he groaned as she brushed the skin against the base of his neck. He had never realized how sensitive an area it was until the accidental caress. Gooseflesh pebbled up all over his skin in reaction and his head rolled a little against her hands in an effort to get her to do it again.
Tarrowlyn laughter, light and lilting, swam in his ears a moment. “Stay still, I’m almost done Farkas.” she giggled. “Gods, you’re worse than my niece when I play with her hair.”
Farkas felt his scalp get drawn tight against his head for a brief moment, but the sensation soon passed. His neck felt bare, an odd sensation to be sure, but he wasn’t complaining in the slightest. He looked to the mirror to his left and Farkas tilted his head to either side a few times as he gauged the look. Most of his hair had been gathered into a bun, but a few stubborn locks had managed to stay free and were framing his face. Combined with his close cropped beard, Farkas found that he actually liked the look. “Not bad.” he murmured.
Tarrowlyn patted his shoulder briefly to get him standing. “Shoo. It’s my turn now. Go pick out something for your feet and have the matron help you with fitting the shirts. I found a few that looked close to what you might have worn back in your time, but if you find something you like along the way, go ahead and grab it.”
“Are septims still currency or has that changed too?” Farkas snarked as he walked for the door.
“That much is still the same, but gold coins of your time haven’t been used in at least four or five eras. Luckily, we should be able to get them converted to the bills that are used now. The only place that can be done is Markarth though.” Tarrowlyn answered as she began unwinding her wraps from her left arm. She knew why he had asked. Farkas wasn’t comfortable with her paying for everything. His pride was more than likely taking the blow. “If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll keep a separate receipt for all the items I’m getting for you and you can pay me back later.”
Farkas nodded, agreeing to her proposal for now. She had been right to assume that he didn’t like that she was paying his way. He had plenty of coin on his person, but he had no means of using it. “I’ll be waiting.”

By the time Tarrowlyn exited the bath, Farkas was tying on a pair of knee high leather boots. His shirt was fitting looser than it had when he had initially put it on, meaning the matron had magically altered it for him, and more than likely had done the same to the other shirts that had been picked out. He looked up at her as she ruffled her hair in an effort to get it to dry a little more, and his eyes roamed of their own accord.
Farkas’ gaze drank in the woman before him as if he were parched for beauty. The long sleeved shirt she had chosen to wear fit tightly against her curves, and by Stendarr did she have curves. Her ample bosom was straining tightly against the fabric of her shirt and Farkas let his eyes follow the natural bell of her waist that led into pear shaped hips. She was wearing a pair of jeans as well and the boots that she had been wearing with her robes graced her feet. The pants fit just as snugly as her shirt, leaving little to his imagination of her body type. Her hair was much longer than Farkas thought it to be, as it tapered off just under her shapely rear.
“You about ready?” Tarrowlyn asked him, knocking him out of his lascivious train of thought. She started drawing up her hair as well and she piled it high on her head in a messy bun.
“Yeah. Found a few things I liked while I was waiting. Once we find ourselves at Markarth, I’ll pay ya back.” Farkas replied. He had already packed his rucksack and he got to his feet, slinging it over his shoulder.
Tarrowlyn smiled as she collected the tags for everything and she paid out for the items right there. They would have needed to do a separate purchase for the rest of the things the needed anyways. “Glad to hear you found a few things you liked. How well do the boots fit?”
Farkas and the matron both laughed and the old woman’s rheumy gray eyes sparkled mirthfully as they met Tarrowlyn’s green ones. “I had to adjust the size of them as well. Your friend here has some of the biggest feet I have ever seen in my life! Thank goodness for the magicka your mother created for tailors and cobblers like myself. I threw in a few extra pairs of jeans and socks, as well as some dress clothing and shoes too. It’s been so long since I’ve been able to do so many alterations for just one person.”
Tarrowlyn smiled as Farkas came to stand beside her. “Thank you very much. I’ll be sure to give High Mage Dragonheart your compliments when I see her again. That will hopefully be tomorrow.” the mage said with a small bow. She looked over to Farkas as he adjusted the straps on his pack. “Let’s go grab some food and drink and head out. We’ve got a decent hike ahead of us.”
Farkas nodded. “We need to go see that healer too. Don’t forget that.” he added.
It took all of fifteen minutes for them to get their provisions, and as promised, Tarrowlyn grabbed a case of her favorite alcoholic beverage.
“Black-Briar Mead? It’s still around?” Farkas inquired, almost incredulous.
“The Black-Briar family is one of the most prominent families in Skyrim still. Lately they’ve been trying to make a power play here in Riften to get their patriarch in charge of the city. Just one more reason I’m glad I live elsewhere.” Tarrowlyn snarked. Ivan Black-Briar was a prick in every sense of the word and he was always at odds with her mother, Dahlia, about something or other if he felt that mages were being too open throughout the hold. Granted, her mother was on the board for the college, but she wasn’t the archmage. That was Illiana Aren, a descendant of famous mage Savos Aren.
Farkas’ brow rose in curiosity as they began moving through the city again, more than likely to the healer’s hut that Tarrowlyn had mentioned before. He had reminded her, sure, but she seemed a little absent minded at the moment. “So where do you live? You keep saying you’re taking me to your ma’s place.”
“Currently, I don’t have anywhere to call home. I had my own apartment up in Winterhold about a month or so ago, but that was about the time that I went to Mzulft. I put everything into storage. My mother keeps a room for me seeing as how I’m not married off yet, but I haven’t lived at the Manor since I was sent to the college seven years ago.”
“You were only thirteen when you started at the college?” Farkas’ tone was incredulous as they made a left on a street and he looked down at her as she laughed.
“I was sixteen actually. I’m twenty three, Farkas, but thank you for the compliment.” Tarrowlyn answered. “Nonetheless, let’s get over to the doctor’s and get out of this town. I’ve got a lot of work to do and even more research to conduct.” She added with a small grin. Farkas only lifted one hand as if to say ‘Lead on’ and Tarrowlyn laughed loudly before doing just that.

Farkas grumbled under his breath as Tarrowlyn set up their tent for the night. Try as he might, he had not been able to make heads or tails of it and darkness was fast encroaching. Instead, Farkas had decided to busy himself with getting the fire going and gathering water. He was the only one with a blade after all. Tarrowlyn was cussing under her breath about her magic still, as she normally used it to conjure a blade, but she couldn’t even do that. “For a mage, you fight well enough.” Farkas called over. She had just been muttering that she was useless. He looked over his shoulder as he stoked the coals a bit and he adjusted the scarf around his neck. “ In all honesty, you’re hand to hand is damn good. I’ve never seen a mage lay someone out in a single punch before.”
They had been ambushed by some bandits that had taken up residence near Autumnwatch Tower about two hours ago before they had decided to make camp. Tarrowlyn’s magicka had flared up for a brief moment, allowing her to light off a few fireball spells, but it literally sputtered out after that and she had been forced to put her dukes up. Farkas couldn’t help but smile at the memory. He had been busy taking three of them on at once, but he had heard the jeers coming from the asshat that had been closing in on Tarrowlyn.
“Mages like you don’t have what it takes to really fight.” Tarrowlyn seethed under her breath, but in a high falsetto as she mimicked what the bandit had told her earlier. “I should have punched him in the throat as opposed to breaking his glass jaw.” She narrowed her gaze a little as she had trouble seeing where to attach the support pole to its anchor and she snapped her fingers. Sure enough, a bauble of mage light began hovering over her shoulder. “Thank the gods that worked.”
Farkas chortled. “Glass jaw or not, that was still a damn good punch. Hand me the pot off your rucksack. I’ll get the food cooking.” He offered. Tarrowlyn took a brief moment to hand over the dutch oven that she had bought and Farkas pulled two potatoes out of the bag that they had put the food in. He pulled a knife out of his boot; he had switched it over from his other gear while Tarrowlyn had been bathing, and he began dicing the first spud. It wasn’t too chilly out yet, but it was cold enough to warrant a stew. It was a good thing that there had been some fresh venison in the tower that the bandits had just landed that day. “You would have done well in the Companions. It’s a shame that we didn’t have more women like you in my time.” The compliment would hopefully help to better her mood.
Tarrowlyn stopped what she was doing. “Wait, you’re a Companion? One of the fourth era Companions to be specific?” she asked, her eyes wide in surprise.
Farkas nodded as he drew the carrots out next. It hadn't occured to him that they really hadn't talked much about him yet despite everything Tarrowlyn had said about herself and her family. More than likely she had done that on purpose to help him feel more at ease with having to stay with utter strangers in a strange time. “Yeah, I’m part of the Circle. Kodlak Whitemane is the Harbinger.” He answered. His brow furrowed as he looked over his shoulder to her again. “Why do you ask?”
Tarrowlyn’s jaw worked wordlessly for a moment. The exact time that she had pulled him from, the Skyrim Civil War was still raging. He hadn’t yet been part of what was the most important battle the Companions had ever been in. Worst yet, she couldn’t reveal that tidbit. It could very well alter the time he had come from. “I can’t tell you because it pertains to your future specifically.” she finally replied. “But you’ll definitely be welcome at my mother’s. The Companions are still around to this very day, but they’re more of a police force for the holds. My pa and all three of my brothers are and were Companions. The only one still alive is Mikhail. My ma, as you know, is a mage like myself.” Tarrowlyn began telling Farkas about her family as she finished up the tent and she soon joined him by the fire.
Farkas reached into the bag and he drew out one of the mead bottles to hand to her and he then placed the lid on the dutch oven to let everything simmer together. It would need about twenty minutes total for the potatoes to cook fully. “I’ve already told you about my brother Vilkas. We’re the youngest companions to ever walk the mead hall of Jorrvaskr.” He began and Tarrowlyn nearly spit out her drink. “ What now?”
“You’re that Farkas?! Oh sweet Stendarr…”she began, laughing all the while. “Mikhail is going to have kittens when he hears this. Let’s just say that Farkas became a very popular name towards the tail end of the fourth era, but there’s only one recorded instance of a pair of twins named Farkas and Vilkas that were part of the Companions. I should warn you that most of the tales of you that are on the books have probably over embellished a lot of things about who you are, but ever since we were kids, Mikhail hero worshipped that.”
Farkas laughed at the thought. Someone hero worshiping him? He hadn’t done anything to warrant it. Not with what he was. “ Noted.” he replied after a while. He began talking of the Companions, his shield siblings, in earnest while they were waiting for their supper, and Tarrowlyn soaked everything up like a sponge. He began telling her of some of his more memorable battles. The excited look in her green eyes kept him talking, the smile on her face warmed his heart. Darkness had fallen fully, but the light of the fire seemed even brighter than normal as it danced along her crimson tresses and lit up her face in a soft golden glow. The thought had crossed his mind once or twice, but with the drink starting to addle him, it was all the more apparent.
Tarrowlyn was beautiful. Farkas wasn’t entirely sure she knew it either. But everything about her, from the way she laughed at something comical he had told her of his past while growing up with Vilkas, to the way she shyly played with her hair while attempting to divert the conversation to something else, was alluring. It wasn’t hard to tell that she hadn’t had much experience with men, and while that thought helped him to keep his distance, it made it all the more tempting too. Farkas could already hear his brother’s voice admonishing him for even entertaining the thought of pursuing some sort of relationship with Tarrowlyn while he was here.
Really Farkas! She’s working to send you back to our time? Do you just plan to leave her brokenhearted? And what about you? You’d be moping about the mead hall for months!
Yeah, that was pretty much on point for how Vilkas would chastise him. It would be best to not let things get that far, to not get too attached, but Farkas also knew that the goddesses rarely allowed him any such luck.
“I was thinking of seeing if I would be able to rent my apartment in Winterhold again. I’d rather be close to the college while undertaking the next round of research than having to commute so much distance on a daily basis.” Tarrowlyn told him. “If I know my Ma well enough, you’ll be more than welcome to stay with her for the time being. Until such is the point that I can pretty much send you right back to the moment you were drawn here via magicka at least.” She watched as Farkas lifted the lid from the dutch oven and she smiled as the smell of the stew hit her nose. “That smells absolutely delicious!”
Farkas grinned, unable to keep the cockiness at bay. He was a damn good cook and he knew it. Vilkas hadn’t been so lucky, despite the amount of books he had read. Farkas was reasonably sure that his brother had read a cookbook or two. “Just be thankful it’s me here and not my brother. I love him to death, but he’s a shit cook.” The companion joked. He served them both up a hearty helping of the stew that he had made and Tarrowlyn gushed even more with the first bite. Farkas stayed silent, just enjoying the compliments and the company for now.
The two went on drinking well into the night, though Tarrowlyn proved that she had the same capacity for holding her liquor just like Farkas did. It surprised him that a little mage like her could go toe to toe with him like this.
“You know…” Tarrowlyn began, albeit with a slight slur to her words. She was on her sixth and final bottle of mead. Her accent was starting to show through a little more with each bottle she drank as well, which amused Farkas. “…I wanted to be a Companion. But after my pa and my brothers died out in the field, she begged me to go to the college. I had shown aptitude in the arcane arts since I was a wee lass. I liked helping my pa around the forge more though. I liked getting to play with swords…” Her eyes grew wistful as she gazed into the fire. “I wonder how my life would have turned out if I had joined the Companions instead. One thing is for sure. I would have never dragged you from everything you’ve known if I had.”
Farkas smirked and he finished off his last bottle as well. They had gone through the entire case in a little less than four hours. While she was right that his whole world wouldn’t have been upended if she had joined the Companions, he honestly had been blessed by the gods for this opportunity. He truly felt as if this was some sort of divine providence that had brought him to this time, that Akatosh himself had brought him here for some special reason. “But I wouldn’t have met you if you hadn’t. Believe me when I say that you have made this whole thing easier to deal with. Because of you, I can look at this is an adventure, Tarrowlyn. A story that I’ll be able to share in Jorrvaskr once you get me home. Rest assured we will be singing songs of your skill for ages to come.” Farkas replied as he got to his feet. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
Tarrowlyn blushed brightly as she looked away despite the fact that Farkas was going towards the tree line. It wasn’t often that someone told her that they were better off knowing her. Tarrowlyn hugged herself tightly as she tried to will away the sudden maudlin feeling that was washing over her. All the years that she had spent practically shunning male companionship were now coming back to bite her in the ass. Things were already getting difficult with her burgeoning physical attraction to him, but her heart was quickly growing just as invested.
That was going to make things much harder than they needed to be.
- 1
- 2
- 3
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Dragonheart: Trials of the Arch Mage