The Dragonborn Comes (a Skyrim fanfiction)

Chapter Four: Sabre Cats

Vilkas doesn't look at me when I return to Farkas and tell him the job is done. Farkas hands me some payment and I gladly pocket it.

"Keep this up and you'll be ready for your Trial in no time," Farkas beams at me. He notices that Vilkas has a sour look on his face and looks back at me. "Don't pay my brother any attention. Vilkas is always in a bad mood,"

Now that the townspeople all know I'm Dragonborn, word will soon spread to Jorrvaskr. How will the other Companions react? I've not even been with them a full day. Vilkas looked on the verge of raging when he found out and there's no telling how the others will react. Will they treat me with favouritism? Hate? Jealousy? I don't understand why Vilkas acted so bitter when he found out I was Dragonborn. It's not like it's a bad thing. 

There's a sudden clap of thunder and I jump. The thunder reminds me of the battle in Sovngarde...I still haven't recovered from it. It wasn't a wise idea, immediately jumping into Companions business so soon after killing Alduin. But I'm here now and I just have to suck it up. The thunder also reminds me of some of the stuff I saw in the Dwemer ruins and Blackreach...like how the Animunculi would spring out from nowhere and the Falmer were behind every corner. 

I still have nightmares of Blackreach and watching my friend Iona, who I had met in Riften, get mauled to pieces by the Chaurus and Falmer down there. I had heard her screams as I hid from the beasts. There wasn't anything left of her to bury. 

"Are you okay Skylar?" Ria asks me. 

"I'm fine," I nod my head wearily. "I just don't like thunder,"

"You're a brave hero and you're scared of a little thunder," Vilkas sneers and I roll my eyes. What an idiot. 

"The whelp still has to prove herself," the man Aela was talking to earlier overhears our conversation. "I don't believe we were properly introduced. My name is Skjor and I believe you're Skylar?"

There's an edge to his voice that I can't quite place. Why is every single old (or mature-aged) person in Whiterun acting so suspicious around me?

"Yeah. Nice to meet you," I nod my head. 

"We'll save the pleasantries for later. Aela has a job for you to do, so hop to it," Skjor frowns. 

I go find Aela, who is seated on a bench near the fireplace and she's enjoying a cup of mead. "Hello there, Skylar. Are you here for the work I've got?"

"Yep," 

"A citizen of Riverwood has asked for our help. It seems a predator has invaded their home, and someone needs to clear the beast out," she informs me. "I believe it's a sabre cat you'll be up against,"

"I'll get right on it,"

"Be cautious. Beasts are not nearly as predictable as men," Aela warns me. "Give the thing a quick death,"

"I can handle it, don't worry," I smile at her. 

"Be back in time for dinner!" she calls as I leave Jorrvaskr. 

***

"I didn't think they'd ever let an Imperial like me join...'specially because I know Vignar and Eorland support the Stormcloaks and not the Empire," Ria babbles to me as we walk to Riverwood. 

Skyrim's political situation is rather delicate. After the White-Gold Concordant, nobody's been really happy. Some Nords think their way of life is in danger (as they can't worship Talos) and some Nords think the Empire is what keeps them safe from the Thalmor. Personally, I'm not too fussed about it all. The Thalmor are terrible people though, that is one thing I will admit to.