Loredas, 22nd of Morning Star:
I have never met a man who could make a bubbling pot of stew look less domestic. I don’t know if it’s the armor and the greatsword, or the little smirk, or the fact that when I walk in the door he ignores it completely, sends the housecarl downstairs, and drags me for the bedroom and lets the stew burn, but.
What was I saying?
Right. Something about Farkas. And his face. And he’s laughing because I keep looking up at him and kind of staring while I write this.
"Good things today, huh?"
"How would you know?"
"You’re biting the side of your lip. You only do that when you’re about t—"
"Yes, thank you."
Skyrim is awful. But he’s… not. And no matter how restless the Eldergleam made me feel, I can’t resent being here if he’s nearby.
Later that Day:
Mentioned to Delvin that I was headed up to Windhelm to help a friend, and he nearly went into raptures.
"Good! There’s a rival guild up there giving us a bad name. Why don’t you help them out, too?"
"We looking into business in Windhelm?"
"That we are."
"Hmm. Looks like it’s time to take Ulfric up on his offer to have me as a Thane."
"…You downright terrify me sometimes. Just so we’re clear."
Farkas isn’t happy I’m leaving so soon after coming back, but he can’t come along. “Waiting for a Khajiit caravan to come by. They’ve got a few things I want for the store.”
"Well, I’ll make it a fast trip."
"At least you told me you were leaving this time."
Note to self: Inform spouse of location in future.