A/N: I've decided to write two stories at once. This way, when I get stuck on one, I can switch to the other for a while. So, if you're following my stories and one seems to be taking a long time to update, I'm probably working on one of the others.

This chapter ties in to chapters 2 and 3 of Loner, another story I wrote based on Skyrim. All rights to Bethesda, except my OC.

Edited 9/16/2013 to include Kodlak

Part 1

That day began like any other. Winter was just beginning to end, and most of the townsfolk were bustling around to prepare for the busy season to come. I stood outside, leaning against the strong wall that had protected Whiterun, my home, for so long. The sun glinted off the steel I always wore, bright and blinding to my blue eyes accustomed to the gray clouds of winter. The light was warm and soothing. I wasn't able to catch very many moments like this, so I savored it. I let my pale skin absorb all the warmth it could.

As I'd subconsciously expected, the moment was interrupted by someone calling my name. My role as the unofficial healer of the Companions required me to always be ready to help someone. I opened my eyes to see Ria, a woman small in stature for a Nord, running toward me, a panicked look in her eyes. She'd always been a bit excitable. "Nokira!" she shouted, "Nokira! We need your help! It's urgent!"

"Calm down," I said gently, "What happened?"

"It's Farkas," she told me, panting, "He broke his leg."

I nodded and headed for the doors of Jorrvaskr, the Companion's mead hall. Those who needed my help were usually taken to a small room, stocked with potions and other various objects I used for healing, on the north end of the main hall. This time was no different. Farkas lay on the only bed in the room, propped up on one elbow and looking very frustrated with the situation. He was only covered by a sheet. Upon seeing me, he avoided my gaze, letting his long, dark hair hide his face. I noticed a bruise on the right side of his jaw. It didn't surprise me that he was embarrassed. His twin brother, Vilkas, stood beside the bed with his arms crossed.

"How did this happen?" I asked.

Vilkas' ice-blue eyes were full of worry. "Close the door," he said in his heavy Nordic accent.

I pulled the door shut and began assembling materials to patch up Farkas' leg. Vilkas told me the story as I bustled around. "We were tracking a thief with Aela last night, as you may already know," he told me, "she was the fastest creature I'd ever chased."

"Yeah," I acknowledged as I mixed a healing salve of my own recipe, "the Shadow-Hand. I heard of it from Ria."

"Right," Vilkas continued, "Well, we thought we'd lost her, but then she dropped out of a tree-"

"Right onto Vilkas' back," interrupted Farkas with a smirk, "She had him by the throat with a dagger."

Vilkas pretended to ignore his brother. "That was when Farkas got angry. He...lost control."

I froze. "You don't mean..."

He nodded, a sorrowful look in his eyes. "Luckily Aela and I were able to remain human, but it was difficult. Anyway, we found him in an abandoned mine about a kilometer west of here. He'd been knocked out."

"That explains the bruise on his jaw," I replied, applying my salve to his discolored jaw.

"She smacked me with a stone," said Farkas, wincing at my touch, "I broke my leg on one of the mine's damn booby traps."

"Let's take a look at that, shall we?"

I rolled the sheet back just far enough to expose Farkas' left leg. His shin had an awful bruise draped over a lump the size of my fist. It had been trying to heal wrong.

"I need to set this," I told Farkas, "Bite down on something."

He obediently took the pillow in his teeth.

"Ready?"

He squeezed his eyes shut and nodded.

With some difficulty, I shoved the bone into place with a horrible snapping sound. Farkas roared into the pillow. His deep, rumbling voice made it almost intimidating. Vilkas cringed.

"Done," I said, "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

Farkas eyed me with a childish look of hatred. I couldn't help but smile. I gently applied my salve to the bruise and wrapped it in a bandage, using two wooden planks to hold his leg steady as it healed. I smeared a little salve on a silvery-colored scar on my cheek, in a vain attempt to make it fade.

"Vilkas, will you help him get to his room?" I said, wiping my hands on a rag.

He nodded and helped Farkas stand. It was strange to see him only a pair of trousers, as I was so used to seeing him in his steel armor. His muscles were larger than I thought.

I went about cleaning up while Vilkas and Farkas left the room. Kodlak, our Harbinger, had been waiting outside with Aela. She began helping me clean the area while Kodlak stood in the doorway, a sorrowful look on his face.

"Don't take this the wrong way," she said quietly, "but it's actually fortunate that he was injured."

"How so?" I asked, confused.

"If that thief hadn't knocked him out with that stone," said Kodlak, "he may have never returned from the hunt."

I paused for a moment. "I hadn't thought of that. Was it really that bad?"

"I'd never seen him turn so easily," Aela sighed, "It always took a bit more effort for him to keep his beastblood under control."

"Is it getting more difficult for you as well?" I asked.

"It is. Vilkas and Skjor are also having trouble, but I fear Farkas may go feral if we don't do something about this soon," she paused for a moment, "This is the first time I've been glad you and Kodlak don't share the beastblood with us."

"I don't regret it," I said.

"We'll do whatever we can," said Kodlak reassuringly, "but for now, it's probably not safe for the Circle to leave Whiterun."

I could tell Aela didn't agree with him, but she wasn't one to question the Harbinger. "I'll tell the others," she said submissively as she left the room.

I turned to Kodlak. "Should we cure them?"

"That seems like the easiest solution," he replied quietly, "but the blood of the wolf has been shared by the Companions for hundreds of years. As much as I dislike it, it's part of our legacy. It's made us stronger... until now."

I thought about this for a moment. "Vilkas would probably be alright with curing himself," I said, "and Farkas has a good chance of following his brother, but Skjor and Aela would be angry at just the mention of it."

"They're the strongest of us; they accepted the beastblood more easily than the rest of us. We may be able to find another way to deal with this."

With that, he left the room. I now had time to think. I felt reassured that Farkas' beastblood would cause his leg to heal quickly, but it worried me to know that blessing came with a curse. Farkas, the slightly dim-witted, yet compassionate and good-natured brute, my shield-brother, would soon go feral if action was not taken. I was determined to keep that from happening, but I had no idea how I could do so.