"I Would Stand At Her Back, That The World Might Never Overtake Us..."

Farkas

"Enough with the training, I want to go fight something," Torvar argued. Farkas resisted the urge to roll his eyes and just stared evenly back at whelp in his charge.
"No fighting, not just yet. Not 'till Skjor says so. You train now," he replied.
"Easy for you to say," Torvar grumbled. "You get to fight."
"But before I fought, I had to train."
At that Torvar groaned and headed out to the training yard. Farkas shook his head. Several of the new whelps' blood ran too hot. They would never be circle material at this rate... not if they couldn't control themselves... the beast blood required control.
Control was one thing Farkas was good at. His beast blood called to him... the wolf inside wanted to hunt, to sink his teeth into prey, to rip bodies apart with his claws, but Farkas was in control, not the wolf. The wolf's rage was only unleashed on his foes, and Farkas hadn't fully transformed since he and Vilkas, his brother, had discussed the matter with Kodlak, their Harbinger. A proper warrior, a proper Nord, should fight as a man. Kodlak called their beast blood a curse, but Skjor, the older sheild-brother that Farkas looked up to, disagreed vehemently. Farkas didn't know what to think when the matter had first come up and Kodlak began searching for a cure. He had since concluded he didn't need to know yet, if Kodlak found a cure, he would decide then. For now, he enjoyed the added strength and heightened senses that the wolf gave him, but he was determined to be an honorable warrior, to fight as a man.
But battle was not the only aspect the wolf spirit affected him on, the wolf also wanted to find a mate... that one was a little harder to ignore, but Farkas was still determined he would find a woman on his own terms, not the wolf's. He knew he could easily go down to the Bannered Mare and pick up a random woman... his large muscular physique, pale blue eyes, dark hair, rugged stubbly beard, war paint, and general battle-hardened appearance  frequently turned the heads of Nord women, and any others who were impressed by a warrior. He and his twin brother almost always ended up being flirted with by a barmaid or two when they'd go for drinks. Farkas had even occasionally had a woman outright offer to go to bed with him... but a wolf mates for life, and Farkas wasn't interested in random barmaid.
The free drinks were nice, but he always turned away the rest of their offers. He wanted a woman he would be proud to bring with him back to Jorrvaskr.
"If I wouldn't want her guarding my back, I don't need her in my bed. Simple as that." Farkas had told his brother once. It was the conclusion he'd come to after the first time he'd been propositioned by a barmaid; she'd been pretty, and the offer was tempting, but she was pretty clear she was thinking of a fling, nothing with commitment, and that had put Farkas and his wolf off entirely. He wanted someone to go on adventures with and to confide in, not just a pretty face to warm his bed. Not to mention Farkas was determined to be an honorable man is every way he could.

Torvar had been within earshot once on another occasion when Farkas had turned down a barmaid and the whelp had tried to hassle him about it later.
"A real man wouldn't have been afraid to accept the offer of such a lady... a real man would have bedded her before she had to make such a bold offer..." Torvar had mocked once they got back to Jorrvaskr.
"No, a real man controls his urges, and conducts himself honorably," Farkas corrected with a growl.
"And," Vilkas cut in, also glaring at the whelp, "a real lady doesn't make such offers, at least not to men she just met in a bar."
Farkas nodded at his brother and turned back to glare at Torvar.
Farkas has made sure the whelp got a bit of an extra rough day of training after that one.

Farkas was glad to know his brother shared his general feelings on the matter of women. It meant he wasn't worried when Vilkas actually began to take a liking to one. She was one of the guards of Whiterun, he'd met her while she was off duty at the Bannered Mare. A bar-fight had broken out and the brothers had both been impressed when she knocked out a drunk patron with a single right hook. She was a nord with blue eyes and dark hair, and she was nothing like the flirtatious barmaids. Farkas agreed with Vilkas's assessment that she was a beauty, and she had a sweet, sarcastic wit that Farkas knew his brother found endearing. Farkas had been intrigued by her as well, but he could see pretty quickly she was more attracted to his brother's sharp wits and eloquent words than she was to his own bluntness and brawn. Vilkas had begun meeting her for drinks every night that she was off duty, and Farkas made sure not to interfere.
His brother had debated for weeks if he should tell this woman how he felt and try to initiate something more than friendship. He told Farkas he was mostly uncertain of how his beast blood could interfere... and then before Vilkas had made up his mind, she had been promoted to housecarl, and her evenings off duty at the Bannered Mare were over. Vilkas hadn't seen her since and it put him in a very bad mood. Farkas cared deeply for his brother, so it upset and worried him to see Vilkas so upset.

Most people generally considered Farkas to be the more dim-witted of the twins, but that was mostly because he preferred the simpler approach of solving problems with his fists. Skjor was fond of making comments about the twins claiming Farkas had the strength of Ysgramor, and Vilkas had his smarts. It wasn't that Farkas wasn't smart, he just wasn't as good at putting his thoughts into words as Vilkas was. Most people usually ended up underestimating his intelligence, even Vilkas would occasionally make comments about his "oaf of a brother." Fortunately, Farkas didn't usually mind. He let Skjor and Aela, call him things like "ice-brain" and "oaf," and he let Vilkas and Kodlak tell him what to do. Being underestimated had a tendency to work out to his advantage, it left him more time for what he enjoyed most; training and preparing for the adrenaline of a good fight. Farkas took pride in knowing he was one of the strongest warriors at Jorrvaskr. He didn't mind that most people thought he was just a dim-witted brute, he could always punch out the ones that got on his bad side... and he occasionally did. He also had to occasionally remind the whelps that he was smarter than they thought he was, and not to be trifled with.
Overall Farkas enjoyed the life of a Companion, the life of a warrior, but some times, when his beast blood kept him awake at night, he wondered... was this life all his future held?