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Dragonheart: Rise of the Harbinger	By : Lady_Kae Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls - Skyrim Views: 9483 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters used from the game TES: Skyrim. All characters and game related material, save for original content is property of their respective owners and no money is being made from this fiction.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
Chapter 3: Fueling the Flame

Tarrowlyn arrived at the Skyforge dressed for work. Adrianne had given her a set of work clothes the day before when Tarrowlyn had mentioned that she was going to be working with Eorlund. That had been at the inn before Tarrowlyn had gone to bed for the night.

“ I envy you the opportunity you have. The man is a master and his steel legendary. I only wish I had your luck.” Adrianne had told her as she had handed her the bundle of clothing. “ There’s a pair of plain work boots there too. We’re roughly the same size. Other than that, have a good night Tarrowlyn. I’ll see you around town, I’m sure.”

Tarrowlyn flushed a little at the thought of the dream she had had, and she was silently thanking the gods that she had yet to run into Farkas that morning. She felt despicable for having such a raunchy dream about him when they had only met yesterday after all. She hurriedly tamped those erotic musings down and she looked about. She wanted to prove herself to Eorlund after all.
Eorlund nodded in approval as he looked Tarrowlyn over. She had also taken care to pull her hair away in her face, which Eorlund approved of as well. It seemed as if the young woman was taking this very seriously. Well, he would see how she managed. Eorlund was a taskmaster and he knew it. Then again, Eorlund didn’t want Tarrowlyn to allow him to boss her about either. Every smith was different in the way they crafted their items.
Tarrowlyn didn’t do any smithing the first day, which surprised Eorlund. She spent the majority of it planning out how she was going to make her pieces, designing them on parchment with bits of charcoal. Eorlund had to admit he was impressed with the way she drew out her designs. He also caught glimpses of a blade that she was sketching out, as well as ratios that she was trying to configure for the blade. He couldn’t help but wonder what she had planned.
The second day Tarrowlyn began making her armor. She started with her boots first, and when questioned by Eorlund, Tarrowlyn smirked.
“ I’ll be wearing them while I’m crafting the rest of my armor. It won’t due to be constantly on the go and be groaning about my feet to the gods because I didn’t take the time to get accustomed to them. If I’m going to be tramping all over Skyrim, I’m going to be doing it comfortably.” she reasoned with a knowing smile. She had done the same with her leather boots, though those had been easier to break in than these would be.

Vilkas went up the the Skyforge a week after Tarrowlyn had started there to bring his armor up for polishing when he saw Eorlund showing the young woman a trick with hammering her rivets in. “ Make sure the rivet is as hot as you can possibly get it. This way you should only need one or two swings to put it into place.” he said as he demonstrated it to her.
Vilkas’ brow arched in curiosity. As long as he had known Eorlund, which had been the majority of his life, Vilkas had never known the man to take on an apprentice. “ I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” he said as he walked over to the two.
“ Not at all Vilkas. Tarrowlyn, you’ve been meeting the Companions little by little as they’ve come up. This is Vilkas, Farkas’ brother and twin. I’ve known the two lads since they were but wee whelps here at Jorrvaskr.” Eorlund said with a chuckle. “ What brings you up today, Vilkas?”
“ I need my armor polished. I’m going to be heading out into Hjaalmarch soon. Farkas and I received word of a gang of bandits harassing one of the farms out that way. No doubt he’ll be up later with his own armor.” Vilkas replied tersely. He didn’t like talking about his days as a whelp. He had fought hard to get to where he was today after all.
“ Tarrowlyn, why don’t you take a break and polish that armor up for Vilkas. This way you have a chance to make some coin for yourself.” Eorlund said.
“ Sure thing, Eorlund.” Tarrowlyn replied with a grunt as she swung the hammer hard to put the rivet into place. She slid a leather glove over her left hand and put it inside the gauntlet she was currently working on. She wanted to keep as much maneuverability as possible while still protecting herself.
“ Who are you making the armor for?” Vilkas questioned, his tone inquisitive.
“ Myself. I’m going to be making a journey to High Hrothgar as soon as it’s ready, after a field test of course.” Tarrowlyn said, meeting Vilkas’ eyes with a confident smile as she flexed her fingers and wrist. Everything was moving just as she wanted it to. “ Mind if I hold a shield a moment, Eorlund?”
“ Here you go, lass.” Eorlund said. “ You’ve heard rumors of the dragonborn from the guard I’m sure?”
Vilkas nodded, though he was looking at the young woman skeptically as she tested the gauntlet with the shield. The look on her face was a dead giveaway that something wasn’t moving as it should be. “ Legends and stories, Eorlund.” was all he said.
Tarrowlyn looked up to Vilkas at this statement. “ I’m sure you heard the summons put forth by the Greybeards last week.” she retorted with a huff.
“ I don’t believe in fairy tales, young miss.” Vilkas returned, his eyes narrowing a bit. His tone was much harsher than he meant it to be, but there was something about the girl that was rubbing him the wrong way. “ You surely don’t expect me to believe that not only are dragons returning, but that you are dragonborn?”
“ Not necessarily all of that, no. I can promise you that yes, the dragons are returning. I even have the proof right here around my neck.” She held up a rather large, highly polished ivory claw that was strung artfully on some leather. She had gone back for it once she had been healed by Farengar, and from there had gone to the inn for the night. It had taken her three days to whittle a hole through the bony extension. “ I’m still trying to comprehend that I was even summoned to begin with. I’m still on the fence of this whole dragonborn business.” Tarrowlyn replied honestly as she set the shield down. She looked away, which made her miss Vilkas rolling his eyes at the thought that this little girl was one of the dragonborn of nord legend. “ I need to tweak the movement in the wrist a bit. Even with the leather that’ll be there, the metal is digging into the joint when holding a shield.” she said as she looked to Eorlund. “ Which would you suggest, rounder or wider?”
“ A little of both, I did warn you that you were making it too narrow despite your skinny little wrists. You’re a bit willowly to be a fighter, girl, but you can damn sure swing a hammer. Shouldn’t need to do much however. I’ll work on that while you polish Vilkas’ armor.” Eorlund chuckled as Tarrowlyn openly glared at him for that comment. It was true though, and Tarrowlyn could admit that. She didn’t eat the way she should, and she didn’t have a definitive exercise regimen. Now, if she actually ate three squares and picked back up on her swordplay, she wouldn’t be getting such insults.
“ Keep it up, old man, and I’ll show you how good I am with a sword.” she shot back.
Vilkas had to admit he was surprised that Tarrowlyn was not afraid to ask Eorlund for advice as opposed to trying to show off to the master. He also had to hold back his laughter. Just as she was unafraid to ask for his help or advice, Tarrowlyn seemed to have no trouble threatening him either. “ Just be sure not to miss a spot.” he ordered gently. The mirth in his voice was hard to miss.
Tarrowlyn nodded as she turned to him next. She even had a trick up her sleeve to help with keeping moisture out. An old family secret that she would be using with her own armor once she was done as well. “ No worries, Vilkas. You’ll be all set to tramp around Hjaalmarch and it’s marsh soon enough. By the time I’m done, water will be rolling off of it like it was a duck’s back.” she said with a smile.
“ I’ll hold you to that.” Vilkas replied, smirking a bit. If the young woman could deliver on that claim, then he’d be impressed. “ I’ll send Farkas up with his armor as well. How long will it take you for both sets?”
“ No more than two days if I hurry, but if you want a job well done it’ll be three tops. When will the both of you be leaving?”
“ Four days, but we can make it five if you need a little extra time. We need to be sure we have provisions and the like ready. I’ll be bringing my sword up tomorrow, Eorlund.” Vilkas said as he turned towards the stairs. He wanted to get some reading done before they left as well. He was right in the middle of a captivating book on lycanthropic legends right now and he was only a quarter of the way through the tome.
“ Duly noted, Vilkas.” Eorlund replied. “ What are you waiting for, girl. Get to work.”
“ Keep your furs on old man.” Tarrowlyn shot back.
Vilkas couldn’t suppress the snigger nor the slight smile that crossed his face at their banter. It seemed as if Tarrowlyn didn’t allow anyone to push her around. He shook his head as Eorlund told Tarrowlyn that Fralia had demanded her presence at the table while she was here. She’ll probably try to force some weight onto those scrawny bones of hers. That sounds like something Tilma would do too. Vilkas thought absently, though he could hear Tarrowlyn and Eorlund still going back and forth. His face sobered as he thought over what she had told him about the dragons and dragonborn however. He had heard the whispers of the city guard that the dragonborn had indeed come, and that she had slain a dragon at the western watchtower. What Vilkas couldn’t wrap his mind around was that Tarrowlyn had been the one to fell the mighty beast. She was a mere slip of a woman! Both he and Eorlund dwarfed her in height easily enough. Bah, enough of that nonsense. he thought as he strode into the living quarters of Jorrvaskr. Being one of the members of the circle had it’s perks. Not having to share a room with his brother for starters. He could hear Farkas playing a diddy on his lute from the hallway already.
He groaned as he rolled his eyes. Farkas wasn’t bad in all honesty, it was just that Vilkas preferred to read in complete quiet. He rapped his knuckles on his twin’s door and the strumming stopped.
“ What do you want?” Farkas called out.
“ Get your armor up to the Skyforge, will you? We’re leaving in four days.” Vilkas barked in return. “ Don’t forget to get your sword sharpened for that matter. We don’t need a repeat of what you did a few months ago.” he added, smirking all the while. Vilkas couldn’t resist the urge to tease his brother for it.

He, Farkas, and Skjor had taken on a job, more like a rescue mission rather, a little over five months ago when young girl had been kidnapped by a band of mercenaries looking to extort her father for more coin by way of ransom. The troop had been big enough to require the three of them; though Vilkas admitted that they could have used Aela’s or even Kodlak’s help, and Farkas’ sword had dulled as he hadn’t thought to get it to Eorlund before they had left. The blades they wielded could easily slice a man twain, but Farkas had barely gotten through the man’s rib cage and his blade got lodged on the man’s sternum. Thankfully, it had been the last of their foes, but it had been comical trying to watch Farkas wrench the blade out of the thick chest bone of the orc he had killed. He and Skjor had laughed about it loudly for nearly a week every time they thought of how the body had twitched with every unsuccessful tug.

Oh yes, Vilkas mused with a chuckle, Farkas was never going to live that one down.
Even now, Vilkas was sure Farkas was turning a rather intense shade of red in both ire and embarrassment.
“ Shut your yap, Vilkas. I’ll take them up now.” he snarked bad naturedly. Farkas’ eyes were narrowed at the door, though he was sure his brother had a smug smirk on his face. He grumbled as he strapped his sword to his back and then proceeded to grab all of his armor. He heard the door shut across the way and if he listened carefully enough, Farkas could hear Vilkas turning the pages of a book every couple of minutes. Well then, Farkas thought with a smirk, he’d go back to playing his lute once he got back from dropping everything off with Eorlund.
There were some things that twins never grew out of it seemed.

The smell hit him before he even made it up the stairs and Farkas’ nose scrunched up at the horrid scent assailing his nostrils. “ By Ysmir, Eorlund! What in oblivion is that stink?” he exclaimed as he reached the top of the stone steps.
“ You can thank the young Miss Dragonheart for that.” Eorlund said, the tone in his voice conveying that Farkas was not the only one suffering. “ By Kynareth’s will, do you have to heat that stuff up, Tarrowlyn?” Eorlund felt as if he wouldn’t be able to touch food for a week at least because of the smell alone.
“ Trust me, would you?” she snapped in return. She had a cast iron pot sitting near the forge, though Farkas was unsure as to what the contents were. “ Set your armor over here, Farkas. I’ll get to it as soon as I’ve finished with Vilkas’.” she ordered without turning away from her work.
“ I’m not sure I want you polishing my armor with whatever it is you’re using.” Farkas said, though he was walking over to her at the same time.
“ Oh stop complaining. Once it’s cooled and cured, the smell is gone. I promise you. Do you honestly think I would be subjecting myself to this if I didn’t know it worked.” she growled out, leveling a glare on the two men.
“ What is it?” Farkas asked as he took a closer look at the pot even as Tarrowlyn dipped her rag into it to put more on Vilkas’ armor. Whatever it was, it was milky white and it was bubbling away. It stunk to the heavens though and Farkas was finding that he was glad he hadn’t eaten lunch yet. He wasn’t too certain he’d be eating anything until he managed to get the smell out of his nose first. If that’s even possible. he thought as his face fell when the stench hit him full blast. He coughed a bit, waving the air in front of his face in an effort to clear the air. By the gods, the smell of it was worse up close! How in oblivion was Tarrowlyn so straight faced?!
“ Troll fat and beeswax.” Tarrowlyn replied in a matter of factly voice. She hadn’t even looked up at Farkas’ reaction, then again, he shouldn’t have bent right over the pot. She was rubbing the liquefied combination into the steel in tight, fast circles, her sharp eyes following every movement so that she didn’t miss a spot. “ You may as well get used to it, Eorlund. Once I finish my armor, I’ll be giving it the same treatment.”
“ There is no way in oblivion that I’m going to keep subjecting myself to that stench, Tarrowlyn.” the smith said, his voice low and on the verge of a growl. He was glowering at the young woman openly, though it was marred by the perpetual grimace that was set in his features by the stink refusing to leave the air. “ Just a small breeze to blow it downwind...Please Kynareth.” he whispered with a quick glance skyward.
“ I’m not using the polish you gave me, and that’s final!” Tarrowlyn retorted, shooting the smith a glare as she dipped the rag into the smelly liquid again. “ I’m telling you, Eorlund. Once they get back, we’ll ask them how their armor fared in the moist conditions. I guarantee neither Farkas nor Vilkas will have any complaints.” She looked over to Farkas this time, who looked skeptical and she glared at him as well. Her gaze softened after a moment and her shoulders slumped a little. “ Just trust me, alright Farkas? My father learned this trick from his father, who learned it from his, so on and so forth. It’s a trade secret that’s been in my family for generations. You should even be lucky that I’m showing you, Eorlund.” Her attitude had reasserted itself with the mention of the blacksmith.
A derisive snort followed that statement as Farkas looked between the master smith and the young woman polishing his brother’s armor. Eorlund had yet to force her to switch, which meant the old man trusted Tarrowlyn’s judgement for her choice of medium.
“ You promise that smell goes away?” he asked, his tone beyond hopeful that it did honestly fade into nothingness. Farkas wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle smelling anything residual from it.
“ I swear it does. I have a rather keen nose myself, mixing potions and the like, and once it’s dried and set there is no smell at all. Period. I think it has something to do with the heat in which I heat it up at. I never use a regular fire, though my father always did. I always used the flames of the forge to heat it to as hot as I could stand it and then I would keep it at that temperature. I’ve been helping around a forge since I was but a tot. I may not be as skilled as Eorlund, but I do know what I’m doing. Just trust me, please.” Tarrowlyn said as she stopped what she was doing to look Farkas in the eye.
Farkas gave her a small smile as he set his armor down beside her. “ I’ll trust you then.” he said as he unstrapped his sword from his back. “ I need to get my blade sharpened while I’m at it.”
“ Set it near the grindstone, boy. I’ll get to it once I’m done hammering this out.” Eorlund replied as he hit the steel into submission in an effort to widen the wrist only a bit for Tarrowlyn. This is where the skill difference showed. Eorlund couldn't deny that Tarrowlyn had talent, but she needed to hone her skills over time. As he said earlier, the girl knew how to swing her hammer, but those scrawny arms weren’t strong enough yet to pull off the harder stuff. I’m glad she didn’t ask for anything with ebony. She would have run my coffers dry on the first attempt I’m sure. he thought with a chuckle. It was just a matter of building her strength back up. Fralia aimed to do that by making her eat on a more regular basis, and Eorlund had barely heard Tarrowlyn softly groaning about the stiffness and soreness that came with movement that one hadn’t done in a long time.
Farkas shook his head silently as he did as Eorlund said to do. “ When will you be done with my armor?” he asked Tarrowlyn as she inspected the steel of the boot she had been working on.
“ Like I told your brother, three days tops for both sets if you want quality work done. I’ll have his boots and gauntlets done in no time, but his chest plate will take me a good four hours. Your armor…” Tarrowlyn picked up a soft wool cloth as she pinned the boot between both of her knees to keep it in place and she began buffing the wax to a highly polished sheen. “ Your armor is going to take me two days alone, with all the steel that needs to be tended to. At least your brother’s armor has a good bit of leather that I only need to apply an easy coat to in order to ready it for where you’re going."
" I'll see you then." Farkas said. He couldn't keep the grin off of his face as he strode back into Jorrvaskr. Tarrowlyn was certainly something else.

Vilkas grumbled a bit under his breath as lightning cracked and boomed overhead, the thunderstorm that he and Farkas were traveling through was making their journey all the more longer. He couldn't deny that Tarrowlyn had been right on the septim on how well she had polished their armor. The water was beading and rolling away from the steel and leather as soon as it touched. He couldn't recall a time that his armor had ever been so resilient to the elements.
Farkas smirked a bit as they trudged back toward Morthal to collect their payment, though his thoughts had turned to the pretty young woman working the Skyforge with Eorlund. He could remember the proud gleam in her eyes as she presented the two of them with their armor, the steel glinting and shining in the bright light of the afternoon sun. As she had promised, there was no residual smell from her medium of choice. She had even managed to impress his twin a bit, which said something in of itself. Farkas very much wanted to get to know her better. More than that if he were honest with himself. The dreams that had been haunting him as of late were always of her, the soft feel of her skin, the pleasant, slightly familiar scent that lingered around her even when she was covered in sweat from a hard day's smithing. The look in those beautiful green eyes...
" You're thinking of her again?" Vilkas asked his brother, startling him a bit.
Farkas shrugged a little as he smiled. " How did you know?"
" There's a certain look on your face that you get when you think of that girl. I don't know what it is you see in her, Farkas." Vilkas replied. He breathed a sigh of relief when the lumber mill came into view. It looked as if they would have to bunk at the inn for the night with as bad as the storm was getting. It had blown in from the Sea of Ghosts and it was growing more and more violent as it wore on.
" You must be blind then." Farkas retorted.
" There is more to a person than just a pretty face, Farkas. I won't deny she's skilled at her craft, but a fighter? I just can't see her wielding a blade. Smithing them is a completely different story."
Farkas shook his head and he groaned a bit in exasperation. Vilkas seemed to have it in his head that Tarrowlyn was nothing more than a little blossom that would wilt at the first sign of trouble. Farkas had a feeling that wasn't the case. " Just drop it, alright." He growled out. He wasn't going to let Vilkas keep speaking so disparagingly about Tarrowlyn when neither of them knew the young woman that well.

Tarrowlyn was all smiles as she looked over the breastplate she had just finished crafting. All that was left to do was temper the pieces a bit and to find something to test it on. Now that she was done, Tarrowlyn would be leaving soon for High Hrothgar to see what it was these Greybeards wanted with her. She heard footsteps coming up the stone stairway and she looked up to see both the twins making their way toward her.
" Hail Companions." She called out to them chipperly.
" Afternoon Tarrowlyn." Vilkas replied first. " Finished already?" They had barely been gone two weeks.
" Aye. All that's left is to temper them and polish them before I set out in a few days. Did either of you see Eorlund on your way up?" She asked them as she moved the breastplate over to the bench.
Both the twins shook their heads and Farkas unstrapped his sword from his back.
" No, but seeing as you're the only one here running the forge at the moment, can you sharpen my sword for me?" he said.
" Sure thing, Farkas. What about you, Vilkas?"
Vilkas didn't quite hear her as he was looking at the sketch for the blade she was designing. " What?" He asked, turning quickly to face her. " Oh. No thank you, Tarrowlyn. If it's all the same to you, I'd rather Eorlund sharpen it. It's not your typical steel."
Tarrowlyn shrugged as she sat down at the grindstone and her foot began pressing the pedal without thinking. With a quick grunt, she hauled the massive greatsword up to begin putting an edge back on it. " That's fine. If either of you see him, please be sure to let Eorlund know I need to talk to him alright?" she asked. Her eyes were glued to her movements, and she swept the blade slowly in a left to right motion, gradually making her way up. As she neared the tip, Tarrowlyn grasped the hilt as best she could and put a little pressure on the blade. She wanted it gleaming by the time she was finished. With a quick flick of her wrist, she started on the other side.
" Of course...Tarrowlyn what kind of ratios are these? This isn't your average blade you're looking to craft." Vilkas was still looking at the sketch and Farkas looked over his shoulder.
" Ebony and corundum? I wasn't aware the two could meld that well." Farkas added. He had helped Eorlund around the forge enough to know a thing or two about blacksmithing as well.
Tarrowlyn sighed a bit as she stopped sharpening the blade and she turned to look at the twins. " Keep it down, would you? I don't want the other smiths hearing this." She snapped. " My pa made a blade out of those materials when I was a young girl, but I don't remember the exact proportions. I was going to see if Eorlund had any advice on it. I want to make a blade for myself first to see if it can be done, but I don't want to pour my already limited funds into something that expensive. It'll take time, so that will only remain just that. A design, a sketch." But it was something she fully intended to make real. The blade her father had had been christened Dawnbreaker, and it had had very, very potent magic on it for the undead. Tarrowlyn didn’t believe that her father had been given the blade by the daedric prince Meridia, so she had always believed that he had made it himself.
Come Aetherius or Oblivion, she was going to make that sword.
The twins looked at her curiously a moment and then to one another. If she was able to craft such a blade, it would be a mark of her mastery of her craft.
" I know Aela and I said it before from what we've seen, but you'd do well enough with the Companions. The gold doesn't hurt either you know." Farkas said smoothly, walking towards her. She had resumed sharpening his blade and he chuckled when she swore. She had cut her finger on the edge of the side she had sharpened. While he didn’t say it, Farkas knew that the daily training they all did would help her as well. Once she was back in shape, he had no doubts Vilkas would cease his comments about her.
" I'll think it over. I've been here a month and I have yet to find anything lucrative. If I haven't found a job by the time I come back, I'll speak to whoever's in charge." Tarrowlyn acquiesced. She really did need the money. She only had about five hundred coin to last her, and she needed to buy her provisions for her trek to High Hrothgar. That was going to put a hefty dent in her funds as it stood.
Farkas nodded. That was fair enough. Besides, she still had yet to tell him about her fight with the dragon at the western watchtower. He didn't see Vilkas roll his eyes her way and Farkas smiled as Tarrowlyn handed him back his blade. She had done an admirable job in just sharpening it. Nodding in approval, Farkas looked back to Tarrowlyn. “ Did you want to head down to the inn for a few pints?” he asked her. He only did so when he knew Vilkas had started making his way back down to Jorrvaskr.
Tarrowlyn smiled shyly at the invitation. “ Not tonight, but thank you. I’ve got a bit of work to do still besides the armor I’m crafting. Eorlund asked me for help with that pile of blades you see over there.” she said softly. Her green eyes met his slightly dejected blue ones. “ How about I come into the mead hall with you some other night? You’ve been wanting to show me around since I started working with Eorlund.” she offered.
Farkas’ eyes brightened at that thought. This way, they would be able to retreat to the privacy of the living quarters, and Tarrowlyn wouldn’t hold back on her tale. She didn’t want to talk about it in the open for fear of people causing a panic or pushing her to hunt down more of the mighty beasts out of fear for their own safety. “ Fair enough.” he said, allowing the compromise. He leaned in closer to her, forcing Tarrowlyn to blush brightly at his proximity. “ Until then…” he whispered in ear, though his voice was soft, sensual, and husky. His lips barely pressed a gentle kiss onto her cheek and Tarrowlyn sighed audibly at the contact.
Damn it all, she mused, she should have turned her head!
Farkas couldn’t keep the satisfied smirk off of his face at the sight Tarrowlyn made as he put a little distance between them again. She made it obvious that she wanted Farkas to kiss her, but he had no such plans of doing that just yet. He was going to make her wait for it, make Tarrowlyn want it as desperately as she needed to breathe. Farkas knew he would probably be torturing himself all the while as well. It was going to be so worth it in the end though. “ Have a good night, Tarrowlyn.” he said in that same tone.
Tarrowlyn shivered a little in place once she was sure he was out of sight. She felt as if every nerve was on fire now with that soft, sweet kiss. His lips are just as soft and kissable as I thought they were...she thought, blushing to her toes at Farkas’ forwardness. His voice, by the gods his voice! Farkas should be fined for ever speaking to a woman like that, she surmised as her cheeks burned even brighter.
Tarrowlyn was going to have to rush back to the inn for a moment in order to change her underthings.

Eorlund looked weary as he made his way back up to the Skyforge and he saw Tarrowlyn hard at work tempering her armor. He was almost sad that she had finished and he was regretting that he hadn't taken her up on that apprenticeship after all. She was a very eager pupil and showed talent. Eorlund knew this would only hold her back however. The young woman had a destiny that she needed to realize and the old smith knew it.
" Everything alright, Eorlund?" Tarrowlyn asked him. She had turned around when she had felt his eyes on her back. She still had yet to get to work on the blades he had asked her to do, but she had made sure to run to the inn. Another little blush went unnoticed by Eorlund as Tarrowlyn thought of Farkas once more.
" I wish I could say they were, Tarrowlyn. My wife and I received knews one of our sons was killed out in the field." He replied softly.
Tarrowlyn sighed sadly. She could understand that sentiment all too well. Her father had been killed in the field as had two of her three of her older brothers. " I'm sorry, Eorlund." That was like jumping into a frigid river, recalling that pain and loss, and it effectively eased away the yearning she had felt for most the afternoon. Tarrowlyn needed to stay focused right now anyways.
" It was his choice. I know he was following his heart, but it doesn't ease the burden any less." Eorlund said. He strode over to the bench and he nodded approvingly. Tarrowlyn had done better than he thought she would have in making her armor.
" I know it doesn't. He'll at least know the glories of Sovngarde..." she whispered. She held up the breastplate for inspection and Eorlund clapped her on the shoulder. That was high praise coming from the master smith. " I'm going to be testing it shortly. Care to watch?"
Eorlund chuckled as he smiled sadly. " Why not. We’ll work on the blades first though, and then go hunt something down. Fralia has been wanting to cook something besides venison."
Tarrowlyn nodded eagerly and she set her armor aside. Eorlund wanted her to hammer out the impurities while he sharpened them. “ I hope you can keep up, old man.” she teased affectionately as she pulled on her gloves. She pulled the first of the steel swords, and the white hot metal hissed against the cool iron of the anvil. Her right arm was already coming down in a rhythm to strike the metal in the right spots.
“ Pah, you couldn’t outrace a snowflake.” he countered. His eyes watched her as she got engrossed in her work. Fralia had done an admirable job in putting some meat on Tarrowlyn over the course of the last couple weeks. It was barely noticeable, but Eorlund had been looking at her on a daily basis. Tarrowlyn didn’t realize it, but she had a bit of a rounder face now, though her work clothes hid her figure admirably. Probably for the best there, or Farkas would be up here much more often than he has been. the smithy thought with a chuckle. He had known the twins long enough, and Farkas was more than interested in Tarrowlyn.
From what Eorlund could tell, it was most definitely mutual.

Farkas jogged up the steps towards the Skyforge, as he had been hoping to speak to Tarrowlyn and he found the forge devoid of the young woman. His face fell a bit in disappointment. She hadn’t even come to tell him goodbye? “ When did she leave?” Farkas asked Eorlund, his tone soft. He felt a little hurt to be honest, but he was sure Tarrowlyn had her reasons. She had said she was heading for High Hrothgar once she had a decent set of armor after all. She probably left early to make good time...he thought, though his eyes were flitting side to side a bit.
" She left earlier this morning for High Hrothgar, Farkas." Eorlund said simply. It was obvious he was sad to see her go. He had grown accustomed to her presence as well over the last month.
Farkas' brow furrowed a bit. He was going to offer to join her if she was still here. " Do you know about what time she left?" He asked, hoping to glean more information. Farkas was trying to pinpoint where Tarrowlyn might be at this hour if she had gone on foot. A rumble from above distracted both of them and Farkas’ brow furrowed again. There was a storm on the wind...
" Daylight. Fralia and I both watched her go. She probably will be in Windhelm by sundown if she took the path towards Ivarstead. For a little thing, she can move quickly when the occasion calls. Hopefully she can find some shelter before that storm hits her on the path." Eorlund was looking out over the way Tarrowlyn had gone. He had been able to watch her until just recently.
Farkas immediately ran down the steps, his armor clanking noisily in his haste.
" What are you doing boy?!"
" She's on foot, right?" Farkas called as he turned to face Eorlund. He had a smile on his face with what he was planning. He was pretty sure he knew where she was.
" Of course she is. She didn't have enough to buy a horse." Eorlund replied. His eyes narrowed in understanding and he chuckled. " Do me a favor then when you get to her. Give her this. I couldn't give it to her until my shipment came in." Eorlund tossed Farkas a hefty leather pouch and he leaned against the stone wall overlooking the yard. " Her wages from the last month. She's been doing more than just making her armor after all."
Farkas nodded as he tied the pouch to his belt and he ran into Jorrvaskr to grab his bag. Other than that, he was set to leave. Farkas ignored the catcalls as he ran for the front door, his eyes alight as he made haste for the stables. While Tarrowlyn didn’t have a horse, Farkas did.

A battle cry roused him from his thoughts as Farkas sheltered his horse in what he thought was an abandoned fort. It was the Valtheim Towers to be specific. He had sought shelter here; he hoped that Tarrowlyn had sought refuge there as well, as there was a blizzard moving in through the mountains and he wasn’t keen on being caught outdoors. Despite being resilient to the cold temperatures of Skyrim, not even a full blooded nord like himself could stand a blizzard at full force. And this one was shaping up to be quite nasty.
Farkas tied off his horse and he drew his sword, immediately dashing across the way to investigate. Just as he was approaching the second tower, a blood curdling scream echoed and a woman dressed akin to the other dead bandits littering the walkway hit the stone before him. Looking up, Farkas smirked as he saw Tarrowlyn there. Her red tresses were whipping about in the wind wildly, her face set into a grim scowl as she looked upon the fallen form of her foe. There was blood spattered on her armor and her face, but Farkas thought she looked incredibly alluring in that moment. She looked about as wild and untamed as he could be.
Tarrowlyn looked up as thunder boomed threateningly, and she motioned for Farkas to meet her on the middle level. “ We need to board up these windows as best we can, then get as much wood for a fire before the storm does hit.”
“ You get the firewood while I seal the windows then.” Farkas replied.
Tarrowlyn was muttering under her breath as she dashed out of the tower and onto the mountainside behind them. She took care to gather any furs or bedrolls that could be used to help stave off the chill and she hauled everything back up. “ Any reason as to why you’re here, Farkas?” she asked, unbuckling her gauntlets as fast as she could. She didn’t want to be in her armor when the temperature started dropping. Tarrowlyn had no desire to get frostbite. She had a few layers of clothing she would be wearing for warmth.
“ I was going to offer to come with you, but if you want me to go back, I can leave now and possibly beat the storm.” Farkas said, smirking a bit. He knew better than to head out with the storm this close. Not even his stead could outrace it.
“ NO!” Tarrowlyn cried out, clearly panicked at the thought of him leaving. She colored a bit as she pulled off her breast plate and she pulled two more woolen shirts on, one being thicker than the other. She then pulled a cloak on over that after arranging the firewood. “ I mean, there’s no need to risk it, Farkas. I don’t mind the company in all honesty.”
Farkas didn’t respond, but he chuckled a little as he too dressed warmer for the incoming blizzard. “ I have something for you from Eorlund, by the way. He said it was your wages from all the work you did for him while you weren’t working on your armor.”
Tarrowlyn’s eyes went wide at how heavy the pouch was. She would have to count it out later. “ Thank you for bringing it then.” she whispered a bit meekly. “ I’m afraid I don’t have much to keep us both entertained...I think this one is going to be a long storm.” She manipulated her magic to light the flames and she felt Farkas give her an odd look. “ It’s a long story.” she whispered sadly.
“ I’ve got all night.” he replied, though his tone was even. If she knew magic, why wasn’t she at the college? Why was she trying to find work as a modest smith? So many questions were now flooding his mind that Farkas sat down heavily as he looked into the now roaring flames.
Tarrowlyn didn’t want to admit how badly his tone stung as she took a seat near him. “ Where do you want me to start?” she whispered.
Farkas sighed as he rubbed his neck, his gaze averting to the floor a bit as he thought something over. He scooted closer to her, his gaze soft and understanding as his eyes met hers again. His large hand covered her smaller one, and Farkas couldn’t resist smiling at the light blush that claimed her cheeks. “ The beginning always works.” he suggested, lacing his fingers with hers a bit boldly.
Tarrowlyn chuckled a little as she looked away. “ Well, in the beginning there was…” she started, settling in against Farkas as he gently pulled her toward him. Her back sat against his chest and she felt it rumble pleasantly as Farkas laughed.
“ I meant your story.” Farkas said as he dipped in a little closer to take a tentative sniff. There was that smell again, though it was dampened by the scent of blood. That familiar, yet foreign smell that plagued his thoughts and dreams at night.
“ I’m not from this time, Farkas…” Tarrowlyn blurted out. She knew somehow that he wouldn’t judge her, had faith that he would believe her. “ I came from the year one hundred eighty nine of the twelfth era. I’ll explain that in a minute, alright?” She had felt his chest rise in preparation of asking a million questions, and she took care to cut him off neatly.
“ I’m the youngest child of the Dragonheart family, with three older brothers, and no other sisters. My pa was smith, as well as a Companion, and my mother was a mage of well reknown herself. All three of my brothers were Companions as well, though after two of them and my pa were killed in the line of duty, my mother begged me to consider the college instead. I’m quite talented in restoration magic, among other things, and I promised her I would…”
“ You’re from the future, Tarrowlyn?” Farkas interrupted and the woman turned to face him a little better. He took that moment to wrap them in some of the furs Tarrowlyn had gathered. “ By Shor, how is that possible?” He shifted her a bit so that she was cradled in his lap and he felt her sigh a little as her head tucked itself under his chin. It was getting chillier by the minute as the storm outside began raging.
“ I’m getting there Farkas…” she replied softly. His hold on her tightened a little and she relished in the feeling it gave her. Despite her calm, steady tone, her heart was racing within the confines of her breast. “ As time wore on, I began delving deeper in order to unravel the secrets of the arcane. My experiments grew bolder and more dangerous...My belief in my abilities superseded my skill and I bit off much more than I could chew with the last experiment I did. I went to the dwemer ruins of Mzulft and I began filtering starlight through the Oculary there into a device I had created to turn it into magicka. However, it overloaded and exploded when I moved in to try to contain it…”
Farkas felt Tarrowlyn shudder a little at the thought and he wrapped his arms around her tightly, thinking she might be getting cold.
“ Raw magicka washed over me...The only thing I can figure is that the magicka ripped a hole in the time stream and that’s what brought me here to this time. I know I have no hope of getting back to where I was, and I’m not so certain I want to anyways.” she whispered this last part as her hands came up to squeeze his forearms a bit tightly.
"Any reason in particular?” Farkas asked her softly. He looked to Tarrowlyn as she turned to meet his eyes and his breath seemed stuck in his throat at the sight that met him. By the gods, she was lovely.
“ I’m not all too sure yet…” Tarrowlyn replied, smiling a little ruefully. She pulled the fur over her neck a little tighter around her to stave off the chill and she shivered a little as the temperature kept dropping despite the fire roaring in front of them.
Farkas frowned a little at the chill she was feeling and he pulled her tighter against him as her head rested in the crook of his neck. “ Vilkas and I grew up in Jorrvaskr.” he said, smiling as Tarrowlyn nuzzled him in an effort to get comfortable. “ We were raised by Jergen, but he left twenty years ago to fight in the war and never returned. Kodlak was more of a father to us than he ever was.”
Tarrowlyn nodded. “ I can understand that to a certain extent. My pa died when I was but a wee lass of eleven. My brothers did what they could, but Hammond and Ford were killed in the line of duty. The Companions were more of a police group as opposed to what they are today. They still hold fast to the ideals of honor, so don’t worry. They haven’t changed that much.”
“ How much did change?”
Tarrowlyn began telling Farkas about the advancements made in technology, but that the nords kept their ways with swords and steel. It was a blend of cultures, and somehow they had made it work. Farkas was more than content to allow her to talk and he listened intently as Tarrowlyn tried to explain some of the things she missed quite dearly while they ate.
He didn’t want to even try to fathom what a computer was.
The tone between them was light and jovial for the most part, and the two fell asleep after many hours of talking about their pasts.

Farkas was the first to wake, the chill morning air rousing him as it settled over him and he couldn’t hold back the shiver that ran through him. The fire was barely going and Farkas reached over where Tarrowlyn lay to grab more of the wood they had gathered. The storm was still raging outside by the sound of things, and Farkas looked to his left where Tarrowlyn lay curled up in the furs. She was buried in them, and Farkas felt a smile cross his face at the sight she made.
Her face scrunched up slightly and her hand began patting down the area next to her as if looking for something. Farkas watched amusedly as her hand found his arm and patted its way up, still searching for something in particular. His eyes went from mirthful to surprised when her hand found his collar and she pulled him back down with a sudden jerk. Her arm wrapped tightly around his ribs as her head settled in the crook of his neck and Farkas chuckled a little before wrapping his arms around her in turn.
This was something he wouldn’t mind getting used to.
Farkas was content to allow Tarrowlyn the chance to sleep, though he was quickly being lulled back himself. It was odd. He hadn’t slept that well in years. His arms wrapped around her a little tighter as his eyes began closing of their own volition and Farkas placed a soft kiss on her forehead as he joined her in the land of dreams.

He knew he hadn’t been asleep long but Farkas again woke first. Tarrowlyn was still nestled in his arms, her left hand splayed sweetly over where his heart was and Farkas smiled softly at the sight she made. “ Tarrowlyn, wake up...We need to get moving.” he whispered against her ear.
“ I’m not moving.” she murmured sleepily. Her grip on him tightened as she basked in the warmth he radiated and Tarrowlyn groaned as Farkas tried to sit up. She held fast to him, not allowing him to move far and she felt his chest rumble as he laid back down on his back, effectively pulling her over him a little as he laughed.
That bit of movement woke her, as the cold, frigid air hit her exposed neck and seemed to travel right down her spine. Her eyes fluttered open and they slowly met Farkas’ silvery blue ones as he watched her expectantly. She couldn’t hold back the bright smile that graced her features as she realized that yes, he had been holding her through the night, and that he seemed just as pleased with their current lot. Well, the storm notwithstanding of course.
In further hindsight, Farkas mused, he should have kissed her right then and there.

The rest of the trip to High Hrothgar was fun in all retrospect, at least for Farkas. He didn’t have a chance to go adventuring like this often with anyone but Vilkas and being able to do so with Tarrowlyn kept a smile on his face that seemed never ending. Tarrowlyn looked as if she were having a ball as well, and the two stopped for a moment before reaching the monastery to have a rousing snowball fight. They both felt like giddy tweeners as they frolicked and romped in the snow.
Farkas paused a moment as he tried to take aim with the snowball in his hand and his eyes met her’s in her obvious jubilation.
Damn Tarrowlyn was pretty when she smiled like that.
A snowball suddenly crumpled harmlessly against his face and Farkas sputtered a bit in shock. Tarrowlyn was laughing quite gaily now and she screamed a little when he started chasing after her. She took off running herself but both slowed down as they came upon a gulch.
“ I don’t like the look of this…” Farkas deadpanned. Too many spots for an ambush, and suddenly a smell reached his nose. He recoiled almost instantly and Tarrowlyn looked at her traveling companion worriedly.
“ Farkas, what’s wrong?” she asked. He had drawn his blade just a second ago.
“ Frost trolls...Three of them and they’re all just inside this gulch. I don’t see any way to go above it either.” Farkas growled. His eyes were narrowed as he began to step lightly towards the gulch.
“ Klimmek told me that this was the only path to the monastery. There is no other way around.” Tarrowlyn added. She drew both her sword and shield as she began to follow Farkas. “ We’ll need to move quickly. I’ve heard frost trolls aren’t that easy to kill.”
“ They’re not.” Farkas reiterated. “ You ready?”
“ Not really.” Tarrowlyn admitted. Her stomach was all but clenching in fear.
“ Too bad. They’ve caught wind of us and they’re coming.” Farkas replied. Sure enough, Tarrowlyn could hear the grunts of the trolls coming their way.
Tarrowlyn jumped as Farkas bellowed out a battle cry, but she was quick to follow him into the fray. She needed to see what these Greybeards wanted with her.

Vilkas was helping Ria haul some furs back to Jorrvaskr when he caught a glimpse of Thunder, Farkas’ stallion, coming up the road. “ Well, look who’s coming back.” he whispered with a slight smile.
“ I guess he found her.” Ria said with a chuckle. She could see the bright red mane from where she stood.
Vilkas had seen it at the same time Ria had. “ It’s his choice.” Vilkas grumbled. He watched as the two jumped from the stallion’s back and Vilkas noted that Tarrowlyn was hoisting a troll’s skull onto her hip. Farkas was carrying two more and the two smiled a bit shyly at one another when their eyes met. Vilkas could also see that Tarrowlyn’s arms were riddled with scratches that were still bleeding a bit and his brow quirked. What had caused that?
“ Hail Companions!” she called to them brightly.
“ Hail Dragonheart.” Vilkas replied as he and Ria walked over to them. “ Looks like the two of you had some good hunting while gone.”
“ Aye. Three frost trolls, a handful of wolves, a couple ice wraiths.” Tarrowlyn said happily. “ I had a nasty run in with a hagraven however when we left camp this morning.”
“ What happened?” Ria asked. The men were silent as the four began making their way into the town proper.
Farkas chuckled. “ She’s clumsy on the back of a horse, that’s what.” he commented.
Tarrowlyn shot Farkas a glare, but he simply shrugged as if to say ‘Well it’s true.’. “ I fell off when the horse reared back after that stupid hagraven shot a couple of fireballs at us. I’m going to take this up to Eorlund.” She paused a moment to gesture to the gigantic skull in her hands. “ I’ll see you all around town I’m sure.” Tarrowlyn said excitedly. She remembered hearing Eorlund say that he had wanted some troll bones to throw into the forge. It was a smith’s superstition that burning the bones of a strong beast would infuse that strength into the steel wrought from the flames. Tarrowlyn remembered hearing her father mutter about bear bones, and the like when he had been alive as well. If she came across another dragon any time soon, Tarrowlyn would be hauling those bones back for Eorlund as well.
The twins and Ria watched the young woman take off into the Wind District and Ria chuckled. “ She’s something else.” she whispered in amusement.
Vilkas kept his mouth shut this time. He needed to have a chat with Kodlak later however as there was something weighing heavily on his mind.

Eorlund smiled when Tarrowlyn came running up the stone steps. “ I wasn’t sure I was going to see you again.”
“ It’ll take more than that to kill me.” Tarrowlyn replied with a bright smile. “ I killed this one, though Farkas took out the other two. I don’t know if he’ll be willing to part with his trophies or not.”
Eorlund smiled as he looked at the skull and he promptly threw it into the center of the forge. “ Thank you lass. Be sure to bring me more if you can.”
“ I will. Mind if I use the forge to tend to my armor and weapons?” she asked him.
“ Aye lass, that’s fine.” Eorlund replied, his gaze still fixed on the skull in the middle of the forge. He was smiling from ear to ear and he rose the flames a little higher. Now, let’s see what I can make with this. he thought with a broad grin.
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Dragonheart: Rise of the Harbinger