In which Farkas adopts two kids and gains a new fear of spiders, and it's 100% the Dragonborn's fault. Snapshot of what's to come in a Misadventures of a Pragmatic Dragonborn. Can be read as a stand-alone.
"Salisbury, you better stop bitching about your hoof and let me ride you or I'm not going to give you any apples!"
Flynn's horse, Salisbury, whinnied in protest and stamped her supposedly sore hoof.
"Don't think for a damned minute that I won't give you carrots! I know you hate them, and I will feed them to you for a week if you don't cooperate!"
Farkas watched Flynn argue with her cantankerous horse in muted amusement as Salisbury leaned away from Flynn's hand, looking entirely more sassy than any horse should.
"Fine, then!" Flynn clipped and folded her arms tightly. "I'll take Frost!"
Salisbury looked up at this with an expression that could only be described as the horse equivalent of offense and snorted indignantly into Flynn's face, swatting her tail about and stamping angrily at the ground. Flynn wrinkled her nose, turned her head, wiped the horse slobber off her face, and, in Farkas's opinion, looked like something akin to a mother waiting for her brat of a child to stop being such a little shit. Salisbury stared at Flynn for a good 20 seconds before lowering herself, snorting in a display of "I'm submitting but I'm doing so reluctantly because fuck you".
"Thank you!" Flynn huffed, clambering on Salisbury's back. "Was that really so difficult, old girl?" She turned her head to look at Farkas. "C'mon, Fark. What are you just standing there for?"
"I don't have a horse, Twig."
Flynn narrowed her eyes and her lips curled into a frown. "Only Skjor's allowed to call me Twig." Her expression, to anyone else, could've been perceived as hostile, but Farkas knew she wasn't actually pissed at him. "And I told you that you could ride Frost at the gate!"
"You did?"
"Yeah, jackass!"
"Oh." A flush crept up Farkas's neck, which he rubbed in embarrassment. "So, that's what you were talking about."
Flynn stared at him for a couple of seconds and said, "You weren't listening at all, were you?"
"Uh...no."
Flynn shook her head good-naturedly. "Then I suppose you missed that I have to go to Morthal before I do my initiation task?" Flynn deliberately spat out 'initiation' with a dramatic eye roll to boot.
Farkas decided to ignore the obvious distaste behind the word 'initiation' and instead frowned. "Why do you have to go to Morthal?"
"Thane-ly duties."
"Oh." Farkas wasn't really sure how to respond to that. He often forgot she was a Thane in the first place, much less the Thane of all the Holds (save for Windhelm). "I guess we should get on our way, then?"
"Yeah, so...wait, uh...Frost! C'mere, buddy!"
Salisbury craned her neck to glower at Flynn. Catching her eye, Flynn avoided Salisbury's mouth and swatted her gently on the head as Frost came trotting over excitedly.
"Hush. I'm not riding him, Farkas is." Flynn chastised her horse.
Salisbury snorted and looked away.
Flynn sagged and dug in her pouch. She pulled out a shiny green apple and waved it in front of Salisbury's sullen face.
"C'mon, you know you want it."
Salisbury leaned forward and, with as much grace as any horse could muster, plucked the apple from Flynn's hand and delicately chewed it. Farkas thought, if anything, that Salisbury looked entirely too pleased with herself. Flynn picked up on it and gently kicked Salisbury's flank.
"Don't think that was a reward, you brat. That was a peace offering." She pursed her lips as she absentmindedly rubbed Frost's head.
She turned her attention back to Farkas. "What're you waiting for? Clamber on and we'll get going."
Farkas didn't much like Morthal, he decided.
It was much too humid, it smelled gross, the folk weren't that friendly, and more often than not he found himself getting jabbed on the ankle by a particularly stupid mudcrab. 'They don't even taste that good!' Farkas thought darkly, sharply kicking one away from him yet again. 'If they tasted alright, how annoying they are could be justifiable!' Somewhere in the back of his mind, Farkas knew that the majority of his terrible mood was stemming from the terrible feeling that seemed to cling to the town, but mudcrabs were plenty annoying and he needed some material reason to be pissy so...mudcrabs. He couldn't keep the frown off his face as he stomped around in the mud while trying to push the feeling of vague threat out of his mind. Flynn seemed to pick up on Farkas's thinly veiled scowl and frowned at him.
"You alright?"
"I hate this place," Farkas hissed lowly, rubbing his arm and glowering at a patch of mudcrabs.
Flynn followed his glare and huffed a short laugh. "I think you just hate the mudcrabs."
'Yeah, that's part of it for damn sure!' He could feel his wolf pacing agitatedly in his chest. Hell, he could almost see it's maw contorted into a threatened snarl. "Mudcrabs are the only things here!"
"Well, there's a lot of Deathbell around. I need to pick some of that, by the way."
"Deathbell doesn't taste good!" He rather stupidly spat, regretting his words almost immediately. Really? That was the best he could think of?
Flynn looked at him for a long moment before smiling in a way that looked almost despondent, though he couldn't imagine why she'd be sad. "...Okay," She sighed, running a hand along her scalp and jostling her long braid, "tell you what, when I'm done with my Thane-ly duties, we can get a meal in the Inn, and after that we can take the long way to Dustman Cairn."
Food sounded good, but not the longer way to Dustman Cairn. "Why would we take the longer route?"
"Robber's Gorge is on that path. How about we stop there and clear it out to get the edge off, yeah?"
Farkas considered this. "That sounds great, actually."
Flynn bent down and pecked him on the head before ruffling his hair. "Atta boy. Go hang out in the Inn while you wait so the mudcrabs don't pester you anymore."
Farkas wrinkled his nose and swatted at her hand, irritation spiking. "I'm twenty-five, not six! Don't baby me!"
Flynn raised her eyebrows and frowned at Farkas before looking confused and backing away slightly while shaking her head.
"What?" He mumbled gruffly, crossing his arms.
"Nothing-just...you sound a lot like Vilkas. Y'know, with the snappiness and brooding. I get the feeling that mudcrabs aren't the only thing making you antsy."
Farkas sighed, feeling his nails digging into his forearms. "I just...I don't- I'm not brooding for no reason, okay?"
"What is it, then?
Farkas glanced around anxiously. "Just-don't you feel it too?" He ignored the stares of the townfolk at his outburst, letting his arms fall at his sides.
Farkas saw her eyes flicker in understanding, but she nonetheless asked, "Feel what?"
"Like something's off."
Flynn sighed gravely. "I thought I was just crazy. I guess not." Flynn's voice lowered and she said, "I understand how you feel. Something is off with this town, it's always felt like that. Let's get out of here as soon as we can."
"You're not going to do anything?"
"I already have," Flynn muttered ruefully. "It's over, yet that feeling of...foreboding still clings to this town. Nothing's amiss, so don't worry about it."
"What happened?"
"...I'll just say that the marsh is a dangerous, strange place, and leave it at that." Flynn said cryptically before pointing to the Inn. "Go on and hang out inside. I should be finished up in about twenty minutes. Then we can eat and be on our way."
Twenty minutes came and went, and just as the colors of twilight began to paint the sky, the two Companions set off in the direction of Robber's Gorge.
The stars began to twinkle above them, illuminating the path as Salisbury and Frost cantered along.
"Whoa!" Flynn suddenly cried, pulling on Salisbury's reigns to make her slow down.
"What?" Farkas called to her, bringing Frost to a stop.
Flynn pointed into the darkness and Farkas followed her finger to see...a dog?
"You stopped... for a dog?"
Flynn dismounted from her horse, and to Farkas's surprise she crept gently towards the dog and...began to pet it?
"What're you doing?! He could be feral!" Farkas hissed, jumping off of Frost and stumbling on his way towards her.
"Nah, I've seen this dog before! Whenever I've gone down this path, he's been hanging out here. I never had time to stop for long, but now I do. What is it, boy? What are you doing all the way out here?" Flynn crooned to the dog, scratching it's ears.
The dog, if anything, looked very pleased to be pet. But, as Flynn asked him what he was doing, his ears pricked and he barked.
"What's the matter?" Flynn whispered, stroking his back.
The dog wriggled away from Flynn and dashed towards the forest before turning back and barking again.
"I...think he wants us to follow him...?" Farkas frowned thoughtfully.
The dog huffed at this and began to bound off, looking behind himself expectantly. Without taking her eyes off the dog, Flynn gently tugged on Salisbury's reins and she followed the dog into the forest with Salisbury in tow. Shaking his head, Farkas followed suit. 'Leave it to Flynn to follow some random dog into the woods.' He thought, tripping over a tree root. The dirt gave way to what looked like a mainly unused path, and the cloying smell of decay began to permeate in the air.
"D'ya think he's leading us to a dead guy?" Flynn whispered a half-hearted attempt at a joke.
"It sure smells like it!" Farkas hissed.
"Eh, it's probably just a dead bandit nearby. I don't think anyone lives in these parts, save for Morthal."
Unfortunately, the dog did indeed lead them to a dead body, namely the corpse of his owner.
Thankfully, the man was long dead, so his body was mainly decomposed so it didn't smell too terrible. That didn't stop Farkas from retching off to the side. The dog, 'Meeko', as the owner's journal had written in it, nudged at his owner's corpse, whining sadly.
"Oh..." Flynn sounded crestfallen. "He...He wants us to help his owner."
"There's no helping that guy!"
"I know that! It's just-when I was passing by here, maybe I could've helped this guy all that time ago."
Farkas frowned at this, plucking the journal out of Flynn's limp hand. "When was the first time you passed through this area?"
"Near the 6th of Evening Star, 201?"
"This entry is dated the 11th of Sun's Dusk, 201. You weren't even in this area when he passed away, so don't worry. Nothing you could've done."
Flynn sighed, turning to face Farkas with a somewhat watery smile. "Thanks, Fark." She suddenly frowned, looking towards the dog. She crouched down and scratched at his ears, smiling sadly as he leaned to her touch. "What should we do with him? He's all alone. He can take care of himself, I'm sure, but he's really skinny so there probably isn't much to eat around here, and he must be really lonely."
Farkas sucked on his teeth, considering her words. She was right, just like she usually was. And he was a cute dog... Bah. He knew he was probably going to regret this, but... "Let's keep him."
Flynn's head swiveled to look at him. "We can?"
She looked way too excited about this. "Yeah."
"What do you think about that, Meeko? You wanna come home with us?"
Meeko barked at this, wagging his tail.
"Yeah, you do! C'mon, boy."
Flynn began to walk away, but Meeko stayed where he was, whining sadly at his owner's corpse.
Farkas sagged, scratching Meeko on the head. "I know, buddy. He's gone, though. We'll take care of you. Follow us." He called, pushing Flynn out the door.
Thankfully, Meeko followed behind them, and he continued to follow them even as they made their way to Robber's Gorge.
"So, where're we gonna put him?" Flynn asked as Salisbury slowly trotted along so that Meeko could keep up.
"He could stay at your house?"
"He could, but I don't want him hurting himself on all my junk by letting it fall on him or him eating it...and I don't know if Lydia likes dogs or not. Besides, I'm not home a lot. Do you think he could at least hang out at Jorrvaskr during the day?"
Farkas considered this. "That doesn't sound bad. I know Vilkas always wanted a dog when we were little brats. Plus, who doesn't like a cute dog hanging around? I think he'd make Tilma happy."
"Okay, it's agreed. He'll hang out at Jorrvaskr at least during the day. Depending on how everyone responds, maybe he can always stay there."
"Good idea."
Robber's Gorge was oddly quiet when Farkas and Flynn came upon it. Flynn wrinkled her nose distastefully at the pungent, trademark bandit odor that hung around the half-assed camp. Nodding at Farkas, she dismounted from Salisbury and lead her away from the camp, tying her out of sight. Salisbury thankfully stayed quiet (save for whinnying nervously), seemingly to recognize the impending danger. Farkas followed Flynn's actions, tying Frost nearby, who pawed at the ground blithely, unbothered by the soon-to-follow commotion.
Meeko growled lowly and Farkas stroked his back to make him calm down. "You stay here, buddy." He whispered to Meeko, tying a loose rope around his collar and putting the end of the rope under a rock.
"You stay with the horses and the cute doggie and keep quiet. I'm going to scout the area and see what's ahead."
Farkas wanted to protest, but he knew Flynn was much better at sneaking than he was, so he kept quiet and nodded. Flynn mock-saluted him before disappearing into the darkness. Sometimes Farkas wondered how Flynn was so good at sneaking around (especially clad in Ebony Armor) but he figured that being a Redguard had its advantages in the dark. Huffing a quiet laugh at his own joke, he sat in silence until the sounds of commotion hit his ears. 'Damn, they must've caught her!' Farkas ran towards the camp with his greatsword at ready, slamming open a nearby gate. Upon opening it he immediately came across what looked to be half of the bandit's corpses. He spotted Flynn battling three bandits at once and leapt into the fray, ending one of their miserable lives with one swoop of his blade.
"Behind you!" Flynn yelled, and Farkas whirled just in time to dispatch a bandit who was about to stab him through the back.
Ah, this was the kind of fight he enjoyed.
With an almost concerning amount of glee, he swung his sword towards the bandit's head, who deftly dodged the incoming blow.
"You get that chick, Fark! I've got these idiots. I'll help if you're still fighting her after I've dealt with them!"
Farkas grunted acknowledgement, stepping backwards before the supposedly female bandit attempted to kick his legs from beneath him. The light of aurora, stars, and moons in the sky provided ample light for Farkas to peer at the bandit's armor as he swung his sword, trying to find a weak spot. She was clad in nordic armor, definitely the most protected person in the camp. The leader, if he had to guess.
The light of the moon illuminated the bandit's face as she screamed, "I'll crush you beneath my boot, you worm! When I'm done with you, I'll make you sorry!" Farkas didn't like the gleam in her eye as she hollered at him.
The she-bandit leaned to the left, presumably to stab him in the shoulder. Farkas blocked the incoming blow, but it never came. To his surprise, the she-bandit dropped to her knees and thrust her sword into his abdomen. His armor gave away to the blow and he felt the blade sink into his gut. The wound wasn't deep, but he'd be fucked if it didn't hurt like a bitch! A faux attempt, and he'd fallen for it! He let out a short scream and keeled over, clutching his wound. The she-bandit yanked his hair down, bringing his head with it, and kneed him in the face. Feeling dizziness wash over him, he fell to his knees. The she-bandit sharply kicked him in the head, and he collided with the cold ground with a short "oof". Using the tip of her blood-stained blade, the she-bandit pushed the hair from his face, smiling wickedly at him.
"Now, aren't you a pretty guy? Maybe I'll spare your wretched life and sell you to someone. You'd fetch a pretty price. How does the sex-trade sound, you miserable little-!"
The she-bandit didn't get to finish her sentence, for a beautifully crafted Elven blade pushed it's way through her metal armor, drowning out her words with a horrible grating sound. The She-bandit slowly turned to look behind her, gaping at Farkas's yet-again savior with wide eyes. Blood began to drip from her mouth and her eyes rolled back. She slumped forward and fell lifelessly to the ground, her heart still skewered on Flynn's blade. Flynn seemed to tower over her corpse and her eyes glinted in the light, the silver irises filled with enough animosity to make Farkas shiver. The moon floated like an ominous halo above her head, and just for a moment, Farkas wondered about how scary of a werewolf Flynn would be if she were to be initiated into the circle. She slowly extending her hand to him and he grabbed it. He groaned aloud when his wound throbbed painfully as she yanked him up, and only then did her eyes soften. She crouched down and inspected the wound, prodding at it and rubbing his hip in apology when he winced.
"I can heal this all in one go with no problem. No need for rest. Just a glorified scrape, really." Farkas frowned. "...In a painful place, that is." She finished hastily at his slightly offended look, digging in her bag and thrusting one of her potions to him.
She noticed his concerned frown at her as she handed him her potion, and she shook her head. "Don't worry. I have like, I think it was 29 more of those in here. I'm not going to miss just one potion."
Farkas flushed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Right, I forgot you had your... magic bag...thing."
"It's fine, a lot of people do. You should've seen your brother's face when I pulled out an entire bow for Aela the other day!"
Farkas huffed a laugh at that, knowing exactly what kind of face his twin would've made. "Yeah, I can imagine. Thank you, though." He knocked back the potion, smiling at the taste. "At least your potions actually taste good."
"Perks of being a masterful alchemist, buddy."
"Seriously, though," Farkas sat heavily down on a nearby crudely crafted bench, feeling the potion beginning to heal him almost immediately, "you should really start your own business, sell your own potions."
"I'd do that, but do you really want me to put every other alchemist in Skyrim out of business?"
Farkas could imagine that happening quite easily. "You've got me there, sis. At least start offering your skills as a healer!"
"I do!"
Farkas stopped short there. "Oh, I didn't know that."
"I suppose I should start getting out there, then. I actually used to be a midwife for a brief time while I was exploring Skyrim, did you know that?"
Farkas raised a surprised eyebrow. "I didn't. How many babies did you help give birth to?"
"I think it was seven babies."
"So, you've watched seven moms give birth?"
"In Skyrim, yeah."
"There's been more?"
"Yeah, but not while I was a midwife. I was the healer's assistant when I lived in Hammerfell, so I just kind of helped while the healer did what he did best. He's actually the reason I have an affinity for alchemy. I was already a good alchemist when I came here, but I became a master once I started exploring here."
Holy shit, the ever-enigmatic Flynn was telling him about her past. It wasn't a lot, but it was something!
Cautiously, Farkas asked, "What's the healer's name?"
Flynn smiled sadly. "His name was Cyrus. Really, he was a wonderful man. He was kind of like a father to me, in a way. Kodlak reminds me of him. When I was 15, he died because my parents-" Flynn stopped short there, her eyes going a little wide.
"Your parents? What do your parents have to do with this?" Farkas asked hurriedly, recognizing her starting to close off again.
"Nothing," She said crisply, pressing her lips in a line.
"Flynn-"
"-Farkas. I said they have nothing to do with this."
"But I-"
"But nothing! Drop it!"
Farkas went to speak again, but she held her hand up sharply. "I said, drop it." She spat coldly, effectively silencing him with a dangerous glare.
Ah, and the Broken Bird had returned, or the Ice Queen as Vilkas took great glee in dubbing her when she shut down like this.
Farkas heaved a sigh, looking away. "Fine. Let's just go."
He began to trod away, ignoring the smarting pain coming from his injury, but Flynn did not move. He turned back to look at her.
"I've been here before," She said simply, turning to face him, "This camp has a little cove beneath it."
"Yeah, and?"
Flynn turned to the corpse of the she-bandit, frowning. "Something she said rubbed me wrong. I think we should check down there, just in case there's any hostages."
Farkas heaved a sigh. "It's late, and we need to finish your initiation task soon."
"Would you rather possibly leave hostages behind here? Some that could be injured, cold, hungry, thirsty, alone, in that stupid, dark, empty cave?! Would you prefer coming back one day to find their emaciated corpses!?" She snarled.
He wasn't sure if it was the look in her eyes, but Farkas sucked in a breath harshly, feeling slightly ashamed at her words. She was right (as per the usual).
"Okay, let's go look."
Wordlessly, Flynn strode into the makeshift house, cocking her head towards the chest in the back left corner. Opening the chest, Farkas was pleased to find a multitude of goodies.
"Bring your bag over here." Farkas called over to Flynn, who dumped the contents of the chest into her bag before walking towards the top left corner of the small house. She crouched down and began to pull a rug away from the corner of the room.
"What're you doing that for?" He asked curiously, peering in the darkness at the ground.
Casting the threadbare rug to the side, Flynn gestured to the previously hidden trapdoor. Farkas let out a low whistle.
"Good eye."
Flynn rolled her eyes in response. "Didn't I say I've been here before?"
Farkas flushed. Whoops. "Yeah, you did."
Flynn pursed her lips, and with some difficulty, she pried open the trapdoor. She descended the ladder first, landing with a soft thump against the dampened dirt.
"Anyone down there?" Farkas called softly, in case there were either bandits or traumatized hostages in the cave.
Flynn didn't respond. He could see her, but she was oddly still.
"Flynn?"
She stared fixedly ahead, before saying, "Farkas…?" In a quiet, fearful tone.
His heart sank.
Her head snapped upwards and she yelled, "Get down here now! Help me!"
"Wha-?!"
She sharply yanked him down and pointed at a bony mass that was slumped against the cave wall with a trembling finger. The figure was stark naked, soaked in blood, and it was covered from head to toe in bruises and cuts. No...not an 'it'.
It was a boy.
A stark naked, shivering, injured, blood-soaked boy.
And he was still breathing.