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…Warm midday light cut across my eyes as the sun passed the mouth of the cave. I was stiff and sore from the uncomfortable position and cold stone, tugging my cloak around my shoulders and squeezing my eyes shut tighter. But then my other senses began to wake; I smelt something off, blood and something else foul, then heard the squelching and tearing of flesh. Rubbing my eyes I blinked blearily across the cave, a hot rush of bile racing up my throat.
Vilkas was hunched over a fresh kill, a huge black bear. He tore the pelt off with his claws and from what I could see, had already devoured heart and liver, now enjoying himself by chewing on thick chunks of fat or crunching down on a rib. A smear of blood ran from the mouth of the cave to where they were, and I blanched.
"…You couldn't have just eaten it where you killed it?" I groaned and he blinked up at me, silver-blue eyes bright, pink tongue flashing as he licked blood from his maw. He sunk his teeth and claws into the carcass and drew it closer to me, thudding it down, then gave me an expectant look. An intestine from the bear had ruptured, spilling a thick dark ooze; it was getting very hard not to vomit.
"…Oh… for me…?" I asked with a small voice. He licked his nose again and gave a huff. I was torn; it was a sweet gesture, really, and admittedly I felt quite flattered. He'd gone an killed an actual bear to share. It was also absolutely disgusting.
"I'm alright, really. Not hungry. I don't think I'll ever be hungry against to be honest. You enjoy your kill, your food, alright?"
He nudged the carcass closer to me.
"No, you eat it."
Growl.
"I don't want any. You're bigger than me, you need more food."
Grumble. Eventually he dug claws into the bear and ripped out a thick chunk of muscle from its back, shovelling it into his mouth in an almost human way before diving in face-first. I couldn't help but feel a little guilty as I got up, wandering to the mouth of the cave to look out.
If I had to guess, we were on the border to the Pale. Tall pine and a lot of frost, still quite mountainous country. We should be able to travel fairly easily through the day, so long as we stayed clear of the roads, and be back by Honningbrew by nightfall. For the first time in a long time I felt something dangerously close to regret, that I was not a werewolf. It would take much less time for us to get back if I were able to change. And what was I going to do? Wander about with him on a chain? 'Oh, don't mind me, just walking the dog…'
…Could I, perhaps…? I glanced over my shoulder at him as he sat there merrily crunching at the bear's head to get at the brain locked inside it's skull. He did seem to understand me somewhat… obey me, even. To an extent at least. I decided to take that as a hopeful sign, and spying the loosed chain laying looped on the ground, let the idea form in my mind.
It was slow goings at first; he didn't take right away to the chain looped around his neck and I had to be careful not to pressure him too much. He also tended to follow the scents of other animals instead of the path I wanted. It was only when I threw the chain down with a little exasperation and stalked off to a small spring for a drink I realised something…
He did not like to have me out of his sight. I turned only to see him watching me, growling as I would try to leave and reluctantly following along, making annoyed sounds that admittedly made me smile. Perhaps the chain wasn't needed after all… though his unpredictability made me uncomfortable, so around his neck it remained, as some sort of insurance.
A good amount of sunlight was wasted on working out how to travel together and I seemed to be leading him on a crooked path through the mountains. When I felt the sun cross toward the west the low ache of hunger in my stomach was joined by a pinch of a headache. It didn't bother me too much; as a child, I had learned to be hungry and to treat that hollow feeling as something familiar. All the same, I began habitually stripping snowberry bushes as we walked, letting the strong, tart flavours burst in my mouth and keep the gnawing at bay.
Last thing I wanted was the wolf thinking I was hungry and dropping a half-eaten doe at my feet.
As my hands slid in their practised manner down the branch of a snowberry bush, gathering up the small red fruit, my fingers snagged on a twisted bit of white fabric; looking around, I had to smile, recalling the place vaguely from the night before. I pulled the fabric loose, holding it to Vilkas to sniff at. He picked up the scent, tail actually flopping side to side for a moment. I petted his ears with gentle tugs.
"That's right. Home. We need to go Home, Vilkas," I urged, "You can follow this trail, can't you?"
His pace picked up and he started lumbering ahead till I needed to run along side him; eventually I just scrambled onto his back, the little flea holding on. He would stop and sniff at each bit of fabric, hackles raising if there was the scent of my blood, but I would urge him on, retracing my first venture through the woods.
Night fell… and from there, I could only trust he was following the right path. I hugged my cloak tighter and pressed myself to his back, soaking in the warmth through his fur, lulled by the rhythm of his strides, till the warm lights of the Honningbrew Meadery came into sight.
I gently tugged at the chain to try and slow him; his ears pricked as he glared down the hill, spying something I couldn't see in the dark that he began creeping towards.
"Easy, Vilkas," I murmured but he was sniffing hard at the air. As we got closer to the apiaries I could see two figures moving about, and the murmur of familiar voices. My heart soared.
"Aela? Farkas?" I whispered through the dark, and they answered in turn.
"Lyrielle?"
"You found him!"
I slid from his back, gently tugging the growling beast forward by the chain, "Yes. Easy, Vilkas, this is your family…"
"…He didn't change back." Farkas' voice was low and flat when he stated what was obvious. He carried in one hand a weighted sack that looked like it had blood pooling at the bottom of it. Going up to Vilkas he held out a wary hand, that the wolf sniffed at, calming at the familiarity. I stroked Vilkas' ears with the gentle tugs I'd gotten accustomed to.
"No… but at least we have him now. And he's not that out of control, he will listen to me… well, to some extent."
"You look tired," Aela commented, offering me something warm wrapped in cheesecloth, "Cheese pastries, from the meadery."
I took them gratefully; a few handfuls of snowberries over nearly two days hadn't been nearly enough, so I tucked into the still-warm pastries with relish. Farkas had his hand on Vilkas' head, staring silently into his brother's eyes, their unspoken, unbreakable bond. That silence then stretched to the rest of us, no one wanting to say what was obvious now…
Vilkas was a lost one.
It was Aela who eventually managed to say something that suggested it; "I don't think he'll be changing back on his own."
"So we use the witches head," Farkas said, taking me by a little surprise. He held up the weighted sack he had been carrying, making it apparent it was a Hagraven's head inside… "It worked for Kodlak, and for you, it should work for Vilkas too, right?"
"Well… yes, theoretically." I was starting to feel ashamed with how surprised I was every time Farkas had a clever idea. He must have decided to hunt down a witch of his own accord.
Aela's jaw set. "It was Farkas' idea. But that wouldn't just change him back, it would 'cure' him completely."
"I don't think he'd mind," I said quietly, "He felt different about the blood than you, Aela."
"The blood is not a curse."
"Not to you, or to Skjor. It's a gift when you can accept it, when you can choose it. Right now, Vilkas doesn't have a choice. And when you don't have a choice, it's a curse… Aela, you've known him since he was a child. Do you think this is what he wants?"
She glanced away, "…No. He wouldn't."
Quiet settled again. The ritual would involve travelling to Ysgramor's tomb in the frozen North beyond Winterhold, luckily, turf I was familiar with. But from here, at least two solid days travel.
"We'd best get moving now, while we have the night to cover us," Aela decided rather loudly, "We'll leave word here for your brother, and Ria. If we travel in our wolf form, we should make it over the mountain range in near half the time."
I decided against arguing; it seemed Aela needed to be in control of something right now, and I wouldn't be one to take it away from her.
We counted on the giants and their mammoth herds to distract from the three conspicuous werewolves racing across the Whiterun basin; Vilkas seemed far more confident with his pack members either side of him so once again, I was along for the ride, just holding on to the chain and his fur. I recall little of the journey; my body was aching with exhaustion and cold, and I spent most of the long hours hiding my face in the thick fur still tacky with Vilkas' dried blood.
Aela broke us for rest only once; I recall slowing down, my hands twisted up in the chains to stop me from sliding from Vilkas' back and my body cold, cramped and sore. I must have been nearly asleep. Aela had transformed back, only bothering to put on the loose green shift of cloth she usually wore under her nordic armour; the woman might as well have been naked, but still perfectly comfortable in the frost and early morning light.
A small fire was made and a meal of snowberries and roots had, though Farkas remained in his wolf form, chasing about after his brother. Aela and I were sitting by the fire when I caught the rare expression of sadness in her eyes. I offered her a few of the blood red snowberries.
"You're still not happy about this," I said quietly.
"…No. But it's for selfish reasons," She confessed, chin lifted. "Farkas won't be a wolf long after Vilkas changes."
"Probably not." A beat of silence, "…Aela, there'd be nothing wrong with you creating other pack members. So long as they know what they're in for, that it goes beyond death."
"You forgive me for… glossing over that point before we turned you?" She asked, and for the very first time since I've met her, I was amazed to see her look contrite. It stirred forgiveness instantly.
"I try to stay out of the business of bearing grudges, now. It's never done me any good. To be honest, even if I knew, I think I would have still done it. I was so that scared that I'd be too weak to defeat Alduin I might well have sold my soul to any Daedra. Still, I did it for the wrong reasons. You deserve a pack that's devoted to the blood; they're out there, somewhere."
Aela looked over to where the boys were growling and snapping at each other in a play fight. Farkas was clearly the stronger, but Vilkas was nimble and far more wily. Farkas barrelled hard into his brother and the two tumbled in what looked like a vicious wrestling match, but I'd seen enough of what werewolves could do to know they were only playing.
"…They haven't changed," she said quietly, her expression stoic, "I just wish they didn't fear the Wilds so much."
I decided not to argue. Aela needed to mourn the loss of her pack before creating a new one for herself; she'd always seemed so solitary it was easy to forget how she felt about the Circle. I curled up on the ground close to the fire, getting what little sleep could be afforded.
At first morning light we set off in earnest for Winterhold. Having to avoid the roads and mountain passes meant scaling some rather steep cliffs, so for most of the way Aela and Farkas travelled as wolves. I again surrendered pride and piggy-backed my way along; by this time Vilkas seemed quite content with carrying me.
"Perhaps we shouldn't change you back," I mused aloud at one point, "A werewolf certainly makes a greater statement than a horse."
I could almost hear the sarcastic response he should have given, but instead the wolf just yawned and continued bounding across the mountains with his pack.
We halted as we came down the North side of Mount Anthor, the Sea of Ghosts stretching out before us, the tower of the College off in the distance. Aela looked over her shoulder at me and gave a human nod, starting to trot down the snowy slope. I leant forward slightly and Vilkas leapt forward, running down the mountainside with ease, gliding in the snow. My breath caught in my throat as we gathered speed, wind racing against us.
At the corner of my eye I saw Farkas bounding in the snow to keep up and I had to laugh; he'd always seemed a bit reserved, tough but good-natured. When he was a werewolf he could act like such a dope! He started chasing at Aela when she caught up and barrelled into her, the two tumbling along in the powder before regaining their footing. I could do little more but cling to Vilkas' back as we flew, the pack thundering along as the snow evened out at the bottom of the mountain. We skirted wide around the Saarthal excavation, finally slowing at the icy slopes that slipped down to the sea.
Farkas looked nervous, pacing back and forth along the stony shoreline; the last time he had been here, he and I had gone through the ice. Now that spring was upon us again the sheets covering the ocean were breaking away in some places, and it was left to Aela to find the safest way across. We stuck as close to shoreline as possible, and the wolves leapt over whatever looked too thin to hold them. All the same, nerves twisted in my stomach and would not settle till we were safe on the island that held Ysgramor's tomb.
I slid from Vilkas' back, stretching sore limbs. Aela and Farkas transformed back without warning, stark naked and leisurely redressing in the armour that had been strapped to them. Well, Farkas seemed to search for some sort of privacy; Aela saw no cause for shame.
"…Vilkas?"
He stood, mostly upright though the knuckles of his right hand… paw… rested on the ground. His ears were flat back, snout crinkled. I beckoned him, to no avail. Then picked up the chain and gently tugged him, realising then he wouldn't be moved, only glaring icy daggers at the tomb that rose before him.
"Come on," I grunted, pulling on the chain; Vilkas just snarled and flashed his teeth at me, refusing to budge and dug his paws in to the rocky beach. I threw my hands up.
"Vilkas, we did not come all this way for you to get stubborn about the tomb," I snapped. He huffed and sat flatly on the ground, and I rubbed a hand over my hair. Farkas turned and frowned;
"What's wrong?"
"I don't think he wants to go underground…"
Farkas slid back down the side of the mound, picking up the end of the chain and taking it from me.
"C'mon brother," he growled, and started pulling. After a moment of heaving he actually managed to start dragging the massive werewolf along the stony beach, Vilkas' snarl getting darker and angrier till he finally snapped, wrenching back and pulling free from Farkas.
"What's the hold up?" Aela called from the bottom of the barrow and I sighed, rubbing my brow. He was prowling around in a grump now, but then, the idea came to me.
"Fine. Fine stay here then." Turning I started over the mound after Aela and encouraged Farkas ahead of me, "I'll just go off into this ancient, haunted tomb. Could be some giant spiders down there that are going to eat me, but I'm sure I'll be fine."
About to start down the stone steps to the entrance of the barrow Vilkas snarled and bounded in front of me, baring his teeth. Nose in the air I ducked under his arm.
"No, I'm going in. You sit here and sulk all you want."
"You can't stop her brother!" Farkas teased, starting to have a good chuckle at the wolf's expense as he entered the tomb. Vilkas crouched at the top of the barrow, looking down at me and giving a low growl when I shoved the iron door open, slipping inside with my Shield Siblings. I cast candlelight, sinking into the silent tomb, the mighty statue of Ysgramor towering before me and a smirking Aela and Farkas.
Behind us Vilkas gave a low howl into the tomb and I slipped out of sight… after some more quiet howls, a clanking of a chain dragging on the stones told me he finally started creeping in.
"He mustn't think you're very good at protecting yourself," Aela commented with a wry smile. I could only roll my eyes. There was a shorter way down to the tomb Aela and I had opened the first time, but Vilkas being big as he was, we doubted he could make it down the narrow and rather rickety wooden spiral stairs.
"Looks like we're taking the scenic route," Aela grumbled. Picking up the chain I gently pulled it to encourage Vilkas along, and the wolf sullenly followed.
It was a long way into the heart of the tomb, rooms winding down deeper and deeper. No spectral warriors stood in our way this time, though Aela still kept an arrow nocked in her bow.
"Uurghh…" Farkas groaned, seeing the thick, white cobwebs starting to gather on the walls, "The big crawly ones'r comin' up, huh? Did you get them all last time?"
"Yes, but there were egg sacks," I warned, summoning a spell just in case. Vilkas' hackles raised and he started snarling, sniffing at the air as we moved into another room, the nest of the spiders we had to get past. The walls and floor were thickly lined with tough, white webbing and husks of egg sacks. From the ceiling hung the cocoons of desiccated, ancient corpses. Behind me I could hear Farkas shuddering and giving another groan.
"Nope. Nope, nope, nope."
"Shh!"
Then came the skittering, squelching sound, and the creatures crawled from the webs, one the size of a cow. Aela let her arrow fly and Vilkas leapt forward so suddenly I was yanked forward as the chain was pulled from my hand, landing flat on my face in the dusty webs. He swiped at the skittering bodies, crushing them into greenish goo and roared when one spat venom at him. Aela had drawn her sword and was hacking at them now, and I thrust my hands out, lightning shooting and snapping through their little twitching bodies.
Aela stabbed down into the largest spider's head, twisting the blade and it shuddered as it finally collapsed. Vilkas was still wild and roaring, swiping at anything that moved and Aela had to dodge out of the way of his massive paw. I scrambled over and grabbed at the chain on his neck, yanking him down.
"Whoah! Vilkas, easy! Calm down, it's done!"
He snapped at me and I tapped him hard on the nose, making him snort and shake his head. Giving me a glare he roared in my face as if to make a point, before finally calming down. He turned, chewing and licking at a wound on his arm that I went to inspect; a spider's fang was wedged into the muscle. I sneakily cast a healing spell over the wound as I carefully eased the fang out, dropping it on the floor and he rewarded me with a disgusting, slobbery lick over the face. Aela chuckled, cautiously coming back out now Vilkas was calmed.
"How do you do that?" she asked, and I grinned.
"He knows who's boss."
"I dare you to tell him that when he's human again."
"…Are they gone?" Farkas called from the far side of the nest, making Aela sigh.
"Yes, you craven milk-drinker. Hurry up."
A little embarrassed, Farkas moved cautiously back to us through the nest and we wove our way through the tomb.
Ysgramor's final resting place was cavernous; Farkas was in silent awe as we moved about the peaceful, silent space, looking on curiously at the small plinth in the centre, and the eternal blue flame that flowed in it like water.
"So… this is it, huh?"
"Yes. Give her the head," Aela said quietly, "Then I suppose it's best we move back, let Vilkas be the closest to the flame."
Farkas gingerly drew the Hagraven's head out, handing it to me and with a grimace I grabbed it by the thin, white hair, stepping over to the silently burning fire. It was strange, being back there, another witch's head to sacrifice. It had worked for me, and for Kodlak, but I had no certainty it would work for Vilkas; what if he had to be the one to drop it in? Or what if… he really was gone? All I could do was hope, to pray to the Divines that this would heal him and bring him back to us.
I held the head over the bowl of flame, sparing one unsure look back over to Aela and Farkas… then released my grip and the head fell into the bowl, consumed in a rush of flames.
Beside me Vilkas buckled suddenly, wrenching and giving an agonised bellow; a cry that shook the walls, that could break stone. I stumbled back and watched on in horror as the wolf twisted and shook, the roar splitting into a wolfish howl and a human scream of pain that drowned out his brother's frightened shout. He stumbled and writhed - then the transformation began. I'd seen a werewolf transform back before, I'd experienced it myself, but this time instead of simply shrinking back into a human form, the wolf seemed to… crawl from his body, tearing out of his flesh and leaving a human shell to crumple on the ground.
The spectral wolf was massive and red, snarling as it turned vivid white eyes on me. With a flick of my hands I summoned my spells, snapping ebonyflesh around my skin and summoning lightning. It leapt forward as Farkas and Aela charged in with battle cries.
Dodging, I let my spells fly and Aela and Farkas swung their swords at the beast. It snapped and swiped at them, one massive clawed paw slashing through Farkas' middle. It's so strange to see, the attack didn't throw him, it didn't seem to touch him but he still buckled in pain. Farkas rallied, lunging his sword forward and I threw more bolts of lightning at the beast. It was buckling, weakening even as it snapped it's jaws and I gritted my teeth, static making my hair stand on end as I drew all my energy into the one powerful thunderbolt. I would destroy that monster!
I shouted and shoved my hands forward, shockwaves crackling over the ethereal body of the wolf, as the Companions lunged swords at it. Aela's sword chimed loudly against Farkas' and wolf gave a loud, painful howl, disappearing as my lightning crackled through it… and it was gone, the howl echoing and fading through the tomb.
Farkas blinked up at Aela and me, smiling with relief; I looked past him to where his brother lay, bare on the cold stone.
"Vilkas-"
We all rushed to him. I slid down onto my knees, undoing the clasp of my cloak and laying the wool over him, wrapping it around his shoulders as I tried to pull him into my lap. My hand rested on his cheek, the face I'd longed to see again now sallow and tired, his stubble overgrown to a short beard.
"Is… he alright?" Farkas ventured, his throat sounding tight. I let my hand slide down to rest over Vilkas' heart, a gentle, slow beat responding. Beneath the coarse dark hairs over his chest, purplish, fractal bruises were starting to litter his skin like spiders webs, and cuts were half healed, seeming brighter and bloodier than they had been when he was a wolf. The gouges over his shoulder where the chain's hook had cut him were breaking open again with fresh blood. In the back of my mind I was all too aware of his nakedness, but his strange, frightening injuries took precedence over that.
"He's alive," I said with a nod and summoned a healing spell, the golden light washing around his body, slowly sealing the cuts. He breathed in a sharply when I did, a reflexive gasp but Farkas still pulled back at the sight of the magic; even Aela flinched. I kept my eyes on Vilkas' face, mentally pleading for him to wake up.
"We can take him up to the College," I said gently, "Collette is a master of Restoration, she'll know what to do…"
His eyes flickered beneath their lids like someone in deepest sleep, and I moved a long lock of ebony hair from his brow.
"I suppose… yes, that would be best," Aela murmured, giving Vilkas' shoulder a squeeze before she stood. "Farkas, you'll have to carry him. And for Gods' sakes lets get him into some clothes."