Before they left, Arngeir explained to her what it meant to be Dragonborn. She was a human born with a Dragon's soul. The Words of Power were words in the Dragon tongue, and mortals could learn to use them with much practice, but for Dragonborn, or Dovakiin, it was much easier.
Arngeir gave her a map that featured locations where Words of Power were inscribed in various ancient locations. He explained that she could learn new powers from these stone inscriptions. She thanked the brothers for their instruction, and led the way back down the mountain. At the bottom, Lyara suggested they took rooms in the Vilmyr Inn once more, as it was already starting to get dark, then head over to Riften at first light.
Before they entered the inn, Lyara placed a hand on Farkas's arm to stop him.
"You know, I can continue to Riften alone tomorrow."
Farkas could barely contain his anger. It seemed that she couldn't wait to be rid of him. He had to admit, their awkward silences were uncomfortable, but he couldn't leave her. He would never forgive himself should something happen to her.
"I made a deal to be your shield-brother for the whole journey. We can part ways once I have escorted you safely back to Whiterun."
He shrugged her hand off his arm and pushed his way into the inn. Lyara paid the barkeep for their rooms and asked for her meal to be delivered to her room. She decided she couldn't face watching Farkas dangling any more wenches in front of her.
They set off early to Riften, and arrived late morning. After leaving the horses at the stable, they headed to the Bee and Barb Inn. Once again, Lyara paid for two rooms. Farkas disappeared to his room almost immediately, so Lyara took a table in the inn. She ordered some wine and sat on her own feeling miserable.
She had to sort this problem out with Farkas one way or another, she told herself. The tension between them could not continue. It was making the journey awkward, and she could not bear to think it may continue back at Whiterun. It would make her tenure as Harbinger of the Companions unbearable. More importantly, she did not want to have to face another night lying awake trying not to think about what Farkas may be doing with one of the tavern wenches.
With a heavy heart, and a heavier sigh, she supped her wine.
"You look troubled, lady."
Lyara looked up to see who had spoken. An Imperial man with a friendly face, dark hair and swarthy skin was stood next to her table. He smiled at her in an expectant fashion, awaiting an answer to his query.
"Yes, I am," she replied.
He sat down without waiting for an invitation.
"What troubles you? Maybe I can help," he asked with a soft smile that didn't match the sharpness that was in his eyes.
"A man," she responded, followed by another heavy sigh.
Her visitor leaned forward, and in a soft conspiratorial voice said, "My name is Marcurio, and for a modest fee, I can deal with your problem. You will never hear from him again."
Lyara was a little shocked, when she realised he was offering to kill Farkas. He was obviously a mercenary. She should have spotted it earlier, having been one herself for many years.
"It is not that kind of problem. It is a matter of the heart," she admitted.
"Ahh," he said. "Then that is not a problem I can help with. You might consider talking to Maramal at the Temple of Mara. He is probably the best person to advise on ... matters of the heart."
With that, her visitor stood up.
"I bid you good day," he said as he bowed his head slightly before disappearing to another table.
Lyara thought about Marcurio's suggestion for a moment. She knew a little of Mara, the Mother-Goddess and the Goddess of Love. Maybe she could meditate on her problems there, and find a solution.
She left the inn, and made her way through the streets of Riften. There were no other patrons in the wooden temple but one or two monks moved in silence about their business. There were several benches arranged to face the altar, but they were all empty. The large room had a warm glow from the candles, and the sweet smell of incense wafted in the air.
On the altar was a statue of Mara, her hands held out, and a plaintive expression on her face. Lyara walked to the front, and knelt in front of the Goddess. She placed her hand on the statue, and mumbled a short prayer to herself.
Mara, Goddess of Love. Hear me and guide my heart. Show me the path to reconcile with my companion. He does not love me, but I love him and I fear I have hurt him. I wish for us to be friends once more. Mother-Goddess, I beg for your guidance.
She felt a slight warmness under her fingers, but decided she had imagined it. Then the sensation become stronger, and the warm feeling travelled up her arms and into her body. A woman's faint voice could be heard in her head. It didn't come from anywhere in the temple, but from inside her mind.
Open your heart child, and your mind. Are you sure the one you love, loves you not?
A vision then flashed in front of her eyes. It showed Farkas as he watched her being tested by Vilkas, and the pleasure and amusement on his face was clear to see. Another vision appeared of them fighting side by side against the Silver Hand, admiration of her abilities evident on his face. She was then shown a close look of the immense pride on his face as she was inducted into the Companions. Another vision showed him while she was lying ill, close to death. The anguish on his face was raw and painful to look at. More visions came, flitting across her mind's eye, each showing a different instance of how he looked at her when unobserved, his feelings towards her plain to see on his face.
When the visions ended, Lyara opened her eyes with a gasp. She staggered to her feet, a little disoriented. How had she not seen this?
"Blessings of Mara upon you, child. Are you unwell?"
Lyara turned her head slowly to see a kindly face in a cowl. He was obviously one of the monks of the temple.
"No ... I am fine," she said, as she continued to teeter.
The Redguard monk grabbed her elbow, and helped guide her to a seat.
"You don't look well, if you don't mind me saying," he smiled.
Lyara looked once again at the statue, wondering if it had really been the Goddess that had shown her those visions. The monk seemed to guess that something had transpired between the elf and the Goddess.
"Has Mara spoken to you?" he asked.
Lyara nodded. Her mouth was so dry she was finding it difficult to speak. The monk fetched her a goblet of water, and handed it over. After a small sip, she looked at the monk and asked if he was Maramal.
The monk smiled, and nodded, "Yes, I am Maramal. There is usually only one kind of person that comes looking for me, and that is those who are interested in marriage. Are you interested in marriage?"
Lyara pictured Farkas in her mind, and nodded again. Her tongue was still dry, but she managed to quietly say that yes, she was interested.
"Typically, love in Skyrim is as earnest as the people who live here. Life is hard and short, so there is little room for long courtships."
He stood then, and walked to a locked drawer at the back of the altar. He unlocked it with a key from his belt, and lifted something out of the drawer before returning to Lyara.
"A person who is looking for a spouse simply wears the Amulet of Mara about their neck, showing they are available for marriage."
He held out the amulet to Lyara, with a friendly and knowing smile.
"Come back and see me when you are ready to marry. I am here for the rest of the day."
Lyara reached into her coin purse and paid him 200 Septims for the Amulet.
"Good luck, and Mara bless you," he said.
"She already has," Lyara replied, and with a lighter heart, made her way back to the Inn.
When she walked back into the Bee and Barb, there was no sign of Farkas, but she figured it wouldn't be long before his stomach brought him back in search of food. She ordered a bath, and waited in her room. While she waited for the wenches to arrive with the hot water, she laid out on her bed the clothes she had just purchased from one of the market holders near the temple.
