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She didn't look that tough.

Well, maybe she did look hardy, but not THAT hardy. Sure, she wasn't one of them skinny girls running through town, looking for a strong man to protect them and carry their shopping home or anything. Nah, there was flesh on her bones, and there were curves, but that didn't make a warrior.

It did make her attractive, though.

Still. She didn't look like someone who'd kill dragons for a living. She did have that confident smirk on her lips, though. No matter where they met, she always smirked.

Well, she did now. She didn't at first, all these months ago, in the fields just outside of Whiterun.

He did remember how she shot an arrow directly into that giant's skull, though. So maybe she was not a warrior, but she definitely knew how to use a bow.

Yet, the rumours told different stories.

No matter how hard Farkas tried, he just couldn't figure out why she never came up to Jorrvaskr. She killed that dragon almost by herself, or so the guards said. If she was half the warrior people claimed she was, then she should be a Companion by now.

Everytime he or Aela met her in the Bannered Mare, they'd invite her to come and join them. Even though Vilkas tried to murder him with his eyes everytime he did.

She'd always give him that disarming smile, pretend to be really flattered, promise to consider their offer, and never show up.

Farkas didn't understand it.

He watched her as she emptied her tankard at the opposite side of the bar, oblivious to his eyes on her. The young woman was deep in conversation with... it didn't matter who, Farkas decided. Some guy. It made no difference.

With a few confident steps he strode over to her. The man she was talking to stopped mid-sentence and just looked at the bulky Nord. After a second he apologized himself and turned away, leaving the surprised young woman alone with the Companion who casually leaned against the bar.

"Hello there, I haven't seen you in a while."

Her melodic voice sounded like bells in his ears.

"You could see me more often, you know." He tried his best to sound charming and hide his slight embarassment. She really was beautiful.

"I might come up to Jorrvaskr someday, you never know."

Her sparkling eyes reflected the light coming from the fire in the middle of the Inn. With a quick motion she ordered another tankard of mead at the bar.

"Nah, you won't. I know it, and so do you."

Farkas was not able to hide his disappointment, and for a small moment the young woman almost looked pained.

"It's nothing personal, you know. It's just... I don't belong to the Companions."

Farkas just looked at her for a long moment, trying to read in her eyes what was bothering her.

"You are the dragonborn. Word is you kill these flying lizards all by yourself day after day. You probably belong to the Companions more than I do."

The young woman chuckled, but even Farkas noticed the bitterness in that small sound.

She came a little closer to the bulky man, never taking her eyes off his. Farkas was able to smell her hair, the honey in her breath, and the excitement in her blood. His heart beat faster as he realized he was not the only one affected by both the mead and the closeness of their bodies.

She placed a hand on his chest and bent forward to whisper in his ear.

"I am probably the least honourable person you will ever meet."

Farkas felt goosebumps creeping up on his arms as her breath tickled his ear. He was not quite sure how to understand her words, and within the blink of an eye she had moved away from him, a full tankard in her hands.

She handed it to the Companion and winked playfully.

"Should you ever need dirt on anybody, just let me know."

With these words, she turned around and left the Inn, leaving a bewildered Farkas behind.