Disclaimer: I own nothing to do with the Elder Scrolls series.

A/N: Sorry about this taking so long.

4. Companions

Brynjolf left Leif in bed the following morning. She seemed to be sleeping peacefully save for the slight twitch in her temple. He remembered what she had said the day before, about hearing the voices of all the dragons she had killed in her sleep. As much as he wanted to stay in bed with her, he knew the fire would be almost dead and he hadn't seen a huge stock of firewood. They also needed water and something for breakfast. He grinned as he pulled on his boots. He could imagine doing this every day, fetching the water, feeding the fire, living out here with Leif. He paused at that thought. A life, out here, away from the guild? Out from under the harsh gazes of Mercer Frey, Maven Black-briar? He was getting ahead of himself. He needed to pull back, take it slow, get Leif healed and see how things went from there. He slipped out of the bedroom as he heard her mutter in her sleep.

The fire was burning low in the hearth as he suspected, the stock of firewood was almost depleted so he grabbed the woodcutters axe from by the door and headed out of the main door. There was a well and a stack of logs across the road. The air was clear and the only noise he could hear was the birds and the insects, shortly followed by the clunk of metal on wood as he started to chop. He was working up a sweat easily. He was going to need a bath. He grinned at the idea of convincing Leif to join him in the cool waters of the lake and the chance to run his hands over her body. He shook his head. Concentrate! He swung the axe again and there was another clunk as the log split. As he pulled the axe free he heard the clinking sound of metal armour. He paused, listening. Could it be guards on their way up from Falkreath? Or soldiers, Imperial or Stormcloack? He tensed, tightening his grip on his axe. If the Imperials had come to take Leif, then he would fight for her. He relaxed a little as the sound grew closer. It was one, maybe two people. Not enough to be guards or soldiers. Possibly bandits, or maybe even the Thalmor. Brynjolf had never had dealings with the Thalmor. He turned his head a little, trying to figure out which direction the sound was coming from, eyes scanning the tree line for movement.

Suddenly, a rather large Nord came running down the road that led to Helgen, the road they'd travelled two days before. Before Brynjolf could even think to move, the Nord had barrelled into the main doors and disappeared inside the manor. Brynjolf dropped the axe and ran after him, only to collide with someone else. As Brynjolf lifted himself off the road, he saw that the person he had run into was another Nord, slightly shorter than the first.
"Apologies," the Nord said, "We're looking for Leif Erdolliel. I'm Vilkas, of the Companions."
"Companions?" Brynjolf said, "I'm Brynjolf, of Riften. Who was that before?"
"My brother, Farkas," said Vilkas. There was a scream from inside the manor that made Brynjolf jump. Vilkas snorted.
"Ice brain probably forgot to knock," he muttered before storming in after his brother. Brynjolf followed.

Inside, they found Farkas sat at the table, a sheepish look on his face. Brynjolf could hear Leif muttering angrily on the other side of the closed doors.
"Well?" Vilkas asked his brother.
"I didn't knock," Farkas answered quietly, his face flushed red, "She was naked…waiting for someone, I think."
"That would be me," Brynjolf said, "Excuse me." He brushed past them, headed to the bedroom door and knocked.
"Knocking now is no good Farkas!" came Leif's response.
"It's me, lass," Brynjolf replied, "I'm coming in." He cracked the door open and slipped in before either of the brothers could voice their thoughts. She was just pulling her tunic down over her bandages as he shut the door.
"I know you said you were one of the Companions," Brynjolf said, "But I never thought you'd be high up enough to warrant two of them coming all this way."
"I'm not," Leif said, "I'm barely more than a new blood, a whelp as Vilkas likes to keep reminding me. Something's got to be wrong." Her forehead wrinkled as she frowned.
"The Companions have been going a long time without you," Brynjolf said, "I didn't sew up your side for you to go tearing your stitches going gallivanting around Skyrim with Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee out there." Leif chuckled.
"They're not that bad," she said, "Vilkas may give me a hard time but he's just pushing me to improve myself. Farkas, well, Farkas is like a big dog. He looks mean but he's as soft as dirt and twice as affectionate."
"Affectionate?" Brynjolf said, sitting down on the bed and watching as she pulled on her boots, "Did you ever show him a lot of… 'affection'?"
"No, I haven't slept with him," Leif replied firmly, "Not for lack of trying on his part."
"How come?" Brynjolf asked.
Leif sighed before standing up and walking over to him. She stood between his parted knees, leaned forward so they were face to face and draped her arms over his shoulders. His hands instantly moved to her hips, his fingers gently squeezing her soft flesh.
"Because by the time he let me know he was interested," she said, "I'd already been to Riften, already been accosted by some damnable red-headed thief and caught pickpocketing by the guards." Brynjolf smiled again. She was so close, he could feel her soft breath on his face. All he had to do was lean forward and he'd be able to feel those soft lips against his again. He was just about to do so when someone rapped on the door.
"Whelp! What's taking so long?!" It was Vilkas and he sounded mad.
"Coming," Leif responded, pulling away from Brynjolf and heading out the door. Brynjolf followed her out.

As he stepped into the main hall, he could feel the eyes of Vilkas and Farkas on him, sense their accusing stares. He knew of the strong bonds between the shield-siblings of Jorrvaskr but surely these two were adult enough not to object if one of their so-called 'sisters' took a lover. Even if there had been no such activity between himself and Leif.
"So, what calls for two of Jorrvaskr's finest to come all the way down here?" Leif asked as she strode around the table. Vilkas turned his gaze to her. His eyes looked dark and heavy. They made Brynjolf feel uneasy.
"Kodlak…is dead…"Farkas said quietly. Leif stumbled. Vilkas made a noise under his breath and turned away.
"What? When?" Leif asked, sinking into a chair.
"Over a week ago," Farkas said, "During the battle at Whiterun, the Silver Hand snuck in with the Stormcloaks, attacked Jorrvaskr and…" His voice trailed off.
"When you never returned to the mead hall, we assumed you'd been killed too," Vilkas spoke up, "Only then we heard rumours about you fleeing the battle. You'd been nowhere in sight when the Silver Hand turned up. I'm going to ask you this question once, sister, are you a Silver Hand spy?"
"What?!" Leif said, "How dare you! How dare you accuse me of such a vile thing!" She leapt to her feet.
"Kodlak took me in when I had nowhere else to go!" she spat, "All of you, you gave me a purpose, training, a bed to sleep in. And you accuse me of betraying your generosity?" Her eyes darkened and a low rumble emanated from her throat.
"Do you think I would have taken the beast blood if I were in the Silver Hand?" her voice was impossibly deep, her fingers digging into the wood of the table.
"Calm yourself, sister," Farkas said, standing up and walking around to the table, "Don't give the wolf the satisfaction of getting what it wants." Leif's eyes closed and she took two deep breaths. Farkas put his hands on her upper arms. Leif flinched, throwing his hands off her arms. He looked confused.
"Before he died, Kodlak asked to speak to you," Vilkas said, "What was it about?"
"He…he had a job for me," Leif said. Brynjolf folded his arms. Even he could tell she was hiding something.
"Well, I hope it was worth it," Vilkas snarled, "Because it meant you weren't there to defend him." Brynjolf wanted to step in, say that she had been sent on a job by the guild and that's why she hadn't been there. Vilkas must have seen his slight movement.
"You got something to say?" he snapped, turning to look Brynjolf in the face. Brynjolf almost stepped back at the man's words.
"Leave him out of this," Leif said.
"No, I want to know why someone from Riften is all the way out here," said Vilkas, "You've certainly never been sent to Riften by us, so how did you meet him? He's not one of those cockless bed slaves they have in Cyrodiil is he?" He gave Brynjolf a glance up and down.
"I can assure you, I still have all my manly parts," Brynjolf said, finding his voice again. He stood up straight, seeing that he was of a height with Vilkas. Vilkas shifted his weight a little, lifting his chin up. Leif rolled her eyes. It was like watching two alley cats puffing themselves up before a fight.
"I have other commitments besides the Companions," she said, drawing the men's attention back to her.
"Oh yeah, like what?" Vilkas said, ignoring Brynjolf. Leif took a deep breath.
"Kodlak knew," she said quietly, "I told him in confidence. That's why he never questioned why I disappeared from time to time. I'm not just a Companion…I'm a Thane of Whiterun…and here in Falkreath. I…follow me." She turned and headed for the back room, pulling open the cellar door. Brynjolf glanced at the two Nord brothers. They seemed intrigued. Brynjolf himself too was curious to see if there was more to Leif than she had let on.

Once they were in the basement, Brynjolf was surprised to see that this was the most complete room in the house.
"So, if you're not just a Companion, what else are you?" Farkas asked. Leif lit a torch, illuminating a mannequin.
"I'm a member of the Thieves Guild," she said, dragging her fingertips over the armour. Brynjolf felt his breath catch in his throat. He remembered seeing her in that armour for the first time. She'd looked like she had been born to it, like she belonged in it.
"Thieves Guild?" Vilkas spoke with disgust.
"Brynjolf's the second in command," Leif said. Vilkas looked at Brynjolf who just grinned and winked.
"Ok, so you were stealing something instead of standing with your brothers and sisters," Vilkas growled, turning away from Brynjolf.
"No," said Leif.
"What?" Brynjolf and Vilkas spoke in unison. Leif led the way through an archway to where she had built a forge, heading for a wooden chest to the right. She opened it and pulled out a cuirass.
"A…a Stormcloak?" said Farkas, "You've sided with Ulfric. Why? Kodlak wanted us to stay out of the war."
"My loyalty to Ulfric started the moment that the Stormcloaks took it upon themselves to defend me," Leif said, tracing a hand over the cuirass, "When the Imperials would have cut my head off for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, the Stormcloaks gave me clothes to wear, a weapon to fight with and helped me escape the dragon at Helgen. Ulfric and I were in the same cart being taken to the executioners block, and we have the same gift."
"Gift?" Vilkas muttered, "What are you talking about? You're a Stormcloak, a Thief and a Companion. What else are you?" Leif looked Vilkas in the eye and reached into the chest again, pulling out a large bone.
"I'm Dragonborn," she said.
"The…the Dragonborn," Vilkas said, "You're the Dragonborn."