The Brothers Moonborn

Twelve

"You didn't have to travel with us back to Windhelm," I said as the eight of us made the trek down the path toward the city. "Farkas and I could've managed on our own."

We'd spent another day at the farm, showing our niece and nephews some swordplay basics, cleaning up the carnage around the homestead, and assuring our sister and her wife that bandits wouldn't come back so soon. We'd left some grim warnings around their farm: weapons and blood-soaked armor mounted beside the road as a challenge for any marauders to take their lives into their own hands if they wanted to raid the settlement.

"We needed to run into the city for trading anyway," said Rosie, adjusting the pack she carried across her shoulders. "I have some tapestries that were commissioned by some of the citizens there, and it's time to collect."

"We can only grow so much on our farm," added Hroar. "And I want to see if Niranye has any swords for sale!"

"Hold on a moment, young man," said Dani. "We only agreed to get you weapons to use as a last resort. We're not getting you weapons so you can hack and slash at one another."

"But how will we practice?" asked Francois.

"The barracks may have some training dummies you can have," said Farkas. "Guards and soldiers usually retire their training dummies before they're completely ruined, and if you train with staves instead of swords, you should be able to keep them in good shape."

"Well, better shape," added Rosie. "How would we go about asking the guards for these training dummies?"

"Just ask," I said. "Most of the time, the used dummies get burned to make room for new ones, so they'd probably be happy to be rid of them."

"We want a chance to prove ourselves so we can be Companions one day," said Samuel.

"There's plenty of time for that," hissed Dani, frowning slightly. "You're far too young for any sort of adventure like that."

"And don't be in a hurry to grow up," I added with a chuckle while the children rolled their eyes and groaned. "Trust me, being old is not all that great."

As the others settled back into comfortable silence, Farkas stepped closer to me. "You know, we're not that old," he said under his breath.

"Maybe not," I replied, "but we're not much younger than Jergen was when he was killed. He seemed old to us when we were young, didn't he?"

"Yeah, but everyone did back then. That's just part of being a whelp. You think everyone is so old until you grow up."

He had a point, but that didn't stop me from brooding about it. The life of the Companions was one without guarantees. We had lost Skjor and Kodlak within a short span. Before then, Jergen died suddenly. Others had been killed in the heat of battle, felled by deadly, premature sicknesses, or slipped away due to some unseen menace within their bodies. In my three decades living under Jorrvaskr's roof, I had never seen one of my Shield Siblings die from true old age. I had thought Kodlak would be the first, but then the Silver Hand got to him before I could save him.

Though I was far from old, after living a life surrounded by those who had been cut down before their time in this world was done, I supposed that I didn't expect to make it this far. I was grateful, though. Living this long had allowed me to become a father to soon-to-be-three children. At the end of it all, that was my greatest blessing. Being the Master at Arms and a member of the Circle paled in comparison to the joy of raising my children.

Though, I couldn't help but feel somewhat relieved to have a break from them. I loved Jergen and Embla, but they nearly drove me mad while their mother was off fighting a war. It was her turn to deal with them for a little while as I completed a quest of my own.