Hello, Thanks for stopping by! This is my first story. I got tired of all the dragonborns doing exactly the same thing, so here we have a dragonborn-free story. Might play before the game.
Since I am German, my English might not be perfect but I hope you will still enjoy my story.
Rated M for blood, violence, and language.
I own nothing.
Edit: The wonderful Zevgirl kindly corrected my grammar- and spellingmistakes, so here is the new, hopefully better version of the first few chapters. Enjoy!
When they were younger the brothers used to go on every mission together. Even as adolescents, not many opponents could take the twins on. Vilkas thought it was only natural; after all they were so similar in so many ways. They grew up together, learnt to fight together, knew each other's style and techniques, almost each other's every thought. Especially in battle. Together they were an invincible fighting-machine, each looking out for the other. The perfect example for what it meant to have a shield-brother.
Through the years, they developed different abilities and interests. While Farkas grew stronger than his twin ever would be, Vilkas got smarter and more interested in things that would bore his brother to death. Yet, when they were standing at each other's side, each a greatsword in their hands, the entire world would not pose a threat to them. The Companions realized very early that these boys would carry out any mission professionally, so naturally they would always send them together.
That was before they joined the Circle, though.
Being a member of the Circle meant responsibility, not only for the shield-sibling who accompanied you to battle, but especially for the newbloods. So they were sent off with other Companions. They taught them how to fight, how to survive, and how to come home to tell their stories.
Farkas missed his brother by his side in almost every battle. Not that he needed him, no, but to him spending time with his brother bludgeoning skulls was the closest to a happy family life he had ever known. Yet, since they had joined the Circle many years ago, such opportunities were scarce.
Only occasionally they would go out and hunt together or accept a low profile contract as an excuse to relive some of the adventures of their youth.
This trip was such an occasion.
A small group of bandits was reported near an abandoned smuggler-cave somewhere in the area of Riverwood, and since it had been a while, the twins decided to take care of this minor nuisance together.
They left Whiterun early in the morning of what promised to become a sunny, warm day and headed south. Nobody else was on the streets this early, the morning was chilly and the fresh air burnt in their lungs as they followed the road. They talked about this and that, trying to catch up on recent events they had not yet had the opportunity to talk about. Both of them missed the chance to spend more time together, just as they used to when they were younger. But life does not always play fair, and so they had to use the few opportunities given.
The sun was rising above the mountains and they had just left Whiterun when Farkas was finally convinced that something was bothering the other man. Maybe that was why he suggested this trip? Maybe he needed to talk to his brother? You never knew with Vilkas, and even his twin could not easily read him.
Sometimes Vilkas would look as if he was about to say something, but then quickly change his mind, as if he was struggling for words. This struck Farkas to be especially odd since his brother was known to know exactly what to say in most situations. He decided he did not like the uncomfortable silence that threatened to overshadow this little excursion and prompted his brother to tell him the truth.
"Say it already. What's on your mind?"
Vilkas frowned at his brother, but Farkas did not miss the amused glint in his twin's eyes.
"What makes you think there is something bothering me?" The other man just growled in response. "I've known you all my life, remember? Now spit it out already."
Vilkas chuckled silently but his brother noticed how he hesitated to answer. Finally, he took a deep breath and looked his twin in the eyes.
"Remember my ring?" The other man nodded. "I lost it."
Now Farkas was at a loss of words. His eyes got bigger as he finally understood what his brother had just told him. "By the Nine! Please tell me you are not talking about THAT ring?"
Vilkas sighed. There was no point denying it. He had fucked it up.
Even though Farkas was the stronger brother, he was also the patient, understanding one. Vilkas on the other hand had a temper, and the beast blood did not make things easier. So Kodlak had organized a little magical something for him a few years ago that should help him keep his cool. A ring.
"Exactly that ring."
Farkas once again growled in response. "Have you checked under your bed?" Vilkas could not help but chuckle. "I did not lose it in my room, Farkas. I lost it a few days ago. I was out hunting, remember?"
The bigger man thought for a second before he nodded. He remembered his brother coming home in the early morning hours. He was covered in human blood, none of it his own. Vilkas' memories were blurry. He had given into the beast that night to sate his needs to chase, hunt and kill.
Somewhere he must have encountered people. Where exactly that had been, or who they were, nobody could tell for sure. Vilkas did not remember.
"When I woke up the next day, my ring was gone."
"Oh," was all the bigger man said in response. Vilkas really did not expect anything else. After all there was nothing they could do about it now. Yet he saw how his brother's mind worked as he thought about the possible consequences of this loss, and of course of ways to help his brother restrain the beast within. "Can we get a new one?" Vilkas just shook his head. "Kodlak told me making the old one had taken a befriended mage almost two years. He surely would not do it again, and every other enchanter would wonder why we needed such a ring in the first place."
Farkas nodded. Of course their secret had to remain a secret. Yet he hated the thought of his brother losing the battle against the beast.
"That explains why you don't remember anything from that night. Were you in control?"
Vilkas shook his head. "I don't know. I must have lost control at least for a while after I lost the ring. I just hope I did not kill any innocent people. When I woke up, I was lying in the Underforge and you were with me." "Aye, I had expected your return. You had been out much longer than you normally do, so I was about to go looking for you when you came back."
They continued to walk on in silence for a while. Even though he tried not to show it, Vilkas was very upset about this loss. Upset and afraid. He admired his brother for his self-control. It seemed to him that he was the only one who struggled to restrain the beast.
The ring had been the only thing that made the beast-blood bearable for him in the last few years. What would happen if he lost control in battle? When one of the new-bloods was around? Or even worse, when he was lying with a woman?
They were both deep in thought when a breeze brought the smell of death to them. All it needed was a quick look and a nod, and the brothers drew their weapons. They could smell rotten flesh, iron, and blood. It did not take them long to find the source of the smell. An open cave door was decorated with a decaying corpse that looked as if it had been trying to run from whatever it was that shot the arrows that were stuck in his back.
Vilkas knelt down beside the maggot-infested body and inspected the arrows. Surprised he looked at his brother. "Silver arrows."
"The Silver Hand? But why would they kill bandits?"
"I don't know, Farkas. But I'll be damned if I don't find out."
With these words, the twins entered the cave.
There were bodies everywhere. Men, women, children. Some of them armed, some of them naked. Some of them wearing silver swords.
The smell was overwhelming. They must have been dead for at least three or four days. Yet there was a quiet, yet unmistakeable sound coming from the depths of the cave. Farkas frowned. It sounded like someone crying.
He followed the noise only to be greeted by a sight that even exceeded that of all the previous corpses. The deeper halls of the cave were filled with giant cages, and these cages were filled with bodies. Some of them human, some of them transformed in a very familiar fashion. Farkas swallowed. He had never seen so many werewolves at once.
Some of them had been skinned, their pelts spread out over tanning racks. Vilkas had followed his brother only to find a child that had been killed in the middle of his transformation. The bizzarre wolf-like body cut open from the throat downwards while the still human face looked shocked, pained, and desperate. That boy could not have seen more than ten summers in his life. Farkas felt physically sick. It was Vilkas' elbow that brought him out of his first shock. "The noise has stopped" he whispered to his brother, clutching his sword even harder.
Farkas closed his eyes and sniffed. Decay. Fur. Excrement. Blood. And something else...
He smelt life. He heard a heart beat.
Someone here was alive.
Their sharpened senses allowed them to follow the heartbeat to a cage at the end of the hall. A few bodies, all young girls, were lying on top of each other behind bars. All of them either mutilated or starved. All except for one that looked very much alive and stared at the two men in horror.
The young woman looked like someone who was about to lose her mind. Her face was pale and covered in tears, rimmed by dirty, red curls. She was crouched into the very corner of the cage, as far away from the bodies as she could possibly get, curled up and hugging her knees.
The twins looked at each other, not sure what to do or say. Farkas finally put his weapon away and got a little closer to the cage. His movement made the girl flinch, so he knelt down in some distance and started talking to her.
"Are you alright?"
Vilkas frowned. What kind of stupid question was that? The girl had been in there probably for days, locked up with corpses, and had probably watched dozens of people die.
She shook her head and began to cry, burying her face in her hands.
Farkas was obviously unable to cope with the situation and pleadingly looked at his brother. Vilkas knelt down beside his twin and tried to speak to the girl. "We will open this cage now. We are not here to harm you. Do you understand me?"
To his surprise, she removed her hands from her face and looked at him. Despite all she must have gone through her eyes looked sane. She nodded and tried to keep from sobbing.
Farkas checked the rusty hinges of the cage and with a quick movement broke the door off. The girl's eyes grew wide in shock about so much physical strength.
Again, it was Vilkas who spoke. "Can you walk?"
Farkas extended a hand to her, trying to help her up, but the girl tried to stay as far away as possible. So with a sigh Farkas took a few steps back to give her some space. She was obviously terrified.
After a few moments, the girl tried to get up. It took her some time after she had been locked in a cage for so long, but finally she got up on her legs and looked at her saviours.
"Who are you?" She asked.
Her voice was rough, as if she had just woken up.
"We are Companions. We were sent to chase down some bandits, and found this... whatever it is instead. I am Vilkas, and this is my brother Farkas. And you?"
The girl looked slightly less nervous but still kept her distance. "Mahri" was her simple answer.
"Well met, Mahri. Are there others alive?"
The girl shook her head in response. Farkas growled and started moving back the way they came in.
"Let's talk outside. This place is no good."
Vilkas just nodded and turned to follow his brother. The girl made a few steps in their direction and stumbled, her legs still weak from days in a cage. Vilkas managed to catch her just before she hit the ground.
Her body tensed as she felt the strong grip around her shoulders, but she had no strenght to fight back. Before she even knew what was happening, he had picked her up and carried her towards the exit of the cave.
"What happened here, Mahri?" He asked when they finally spotted the sunlight.
"They were... We are... we were..."
Farkas turned around for a second to exchange looks with his brother.
"Werewolves, right?" The bigger man tried to help her.
"NO!" she screamed in reply. "I am not! Some of them were, but not all of us! But they killed them all alike." She quietly began to sob again.
Vilkas had a funny feeling he would not learn much more anytime soon.
As they had finally left the cave, he put the girl down on the grass and looked at her. She was covered in blood, but it seemed she was uninjured herself. A few bruises and scratches, but nothing to worry about. Apart from that, she was only underfed and dirty.
"How did you survive, girl?"
"I pretended to be dead. Hid under the bodies of the other girls." She once again hugged her knees. Farkas felt terribly sorry for the girl. "And now, Mahri? Where are you going?"
"I don't know... Everyone I knew was..." She stole a glance back in the direction of the cave. Farkas grunted. "Well, I guess you have to come with us then."
Vilkas quickly shot his brother a glare. "We cannot! What are you thinking, brother?"
The girl winced at Vilkas' sudden outburst. "She has nowhere to go Vilkas. Let's just bring her to Whiterun at least."
The other man sighed in defeat. "Whiterun, alright. But she cannot stay in Jorrvaskr. She is not a Companion after all."
Farkas knew exactly that his brother feared any intruder might find out their secret, and thus strangers were not welcome to stay within the walls. "After all she has gone through, that is the least we can do," Farkas replied.
Vilkas gave a weak nod.
The girl looked at the twins hopefully. "So I can come with you?"
"Aye, I guess so." Giving them a weak smile, Mahri tried to get up, but once again, her legs gave in below her. This time Farkas caught her and picked her up. "Guess I better carry you home. Don't worry, we'll patch you up once we're in Whiterun."
And so the unlikely group of people headed back the way they came, all of them deep in their own thoughts.
