Chapter 7: Lust

"Why can't we just remain the way we were before Dimhollow?" - Corvo

It was the beginning of a long conversation.

"The past four months I thought you were dead, and the time you revealed yourself, you've been unconscious for ten days straight, leaving me with guilt for almost killing you. You should've told me it was that bad," Argis began, turned so his left shoulder was facing the other man, placed his hands on his hips.

"What's going on, Corvo?" he then asked.

Corvo's eyes slightly widened. "Ten days?" he echoed in surprise. However, his expression almost immediately softened again, to explain why he did what he did. "I'm losing control over my beast blood."

"I was trying to find the cure for an Alpha, or… I didn't want to return empty handed."

Argis spoke after a moment of silence. "How?" he muttered. "How did you become an alpha in the first place?"

"I was working on destroying a group of werewolf hunters named the Silver Hand, one night," he began explaining the incident. "On my way to Whiterun, I ended up in some sort of ambush. I was only a few feet away from the alpha that appeared from the shadows."

The Housecarl turned to the other man again as he continued. "Around twenty of them surrounded me. I had no place to run as they blocked all possible escape routes. I had heard a menacing how. He was only a few feet away, apparently seeing me as an obstacle to threaten his position as the alpha."

"It happened a lot like it did ten days ago," he added, referring to Argis encounter with Corvo in beast form. "Just like that, we were circling around each other, and the alpha charged me. I fought for my very life, because that son-of-a bitch was a strong one, for sure."

He paused. "I had lost a lot of blood, so I had no choice but to turn, if I was going to make it out alive. So I did," he finished. "When I finally managed to bring the alpha down, the wolves backed away, whimpering. At that point, they were all willing to take my command. As well as other werewolves."

Argis walked over to him. Corvo soon felt his warm hand brush against his skin and placed his right hand under his chin, gently tilted his head up a little.

"Same night you got that scar, wasn't it?"

He was referring to the one-lined scar across his mouth on the left side as he looked at it, caressingly slid his thumb across it, so Corvo tensed a little. He shivered at the touch, feeling the warm sensation reaching his whole body in a way he had never experienced before. The werewolf's expression softened a little, and the amber eyes met his again, with an unreadable expression.

"Aye," he simply muttered.

Argis pulled away. The other man hesitated to ask, but in the moment as he was about to open his mouth, his Housecarl answered as if he had read his mind. "A bear. A friend and I made a bet that if I killed it bare-handed he'd finally take me seriously and stop calling me 'Blondie'," he began, so the corners of Corvo's mouth could not help but curve upwards at the adorable nickname.

"I killed it, but I was young, and it was stupid," he added.

"Why? You won the bet, lad," he replied in confusion. "Either way, the look suits you."

It was obvious regret in the other man's voice. "It's stupid 'cause I could'a prevented it if I hadn't insisted on doing it shirtless," the other man added. "It wouldn't have clawed me and I wouldn't have lost my guard. From there on out, it became 'Bulwark'."

Shirtless bear-wrestle? Gods, Argis... what in Oblivion are you doing to me?

...

They overheard a rumor in Falkreath about a little girl that had been murdered in a most gruesome way that unnerved the Dragonborn to no extent, for good reason.

She was ripped apart. The werewolf's eyes widened in concern, so Argis placed a comforting hand at Corvo's shoulder, making the werewolf relax a bit more because of the small gesture. As they investigated, they found out that the one responsible was in Falkreath jail, making the mercenary exhale in relief. His name surprised him quite a bit when it was mentioned. Sinding. He was one in his pack. He took hold of the door handle, gently pushed the door open and walked inside while the other man remained where he was, leant to the stonewall by the entrance and crossed his arms.

Corvo's eyes widened. "Sinding?"

"Corvo? I suppose you're here about the incident," he assumed while he looked up with a surprised expression, as he walked over to the gate. The alpha tightened his brows in a little worried fashion that indicated that was his goal. Sinding's expression saddened.

"Believe me, it wasn't anything I intended to do, I just… lost control," he added. "I tried to tell them, but no one believed me. It's all on account of this blasted ring."

"What ring?"

Sinding then showed him the jewelry, so the other man's eyes widened.

The Ring of Hircine.

Sinding confirmed his suspicion."This is the Ring of Hircine," he replied. "I was told it could let me control my transformations. Perhaps it used to. But I'll never know. Hircine didn't care for me taking it, and threw a curse on it. I put it on… and the changes just came to me. I could never guess when. It would be at the worst times."

He paused with a face of disgust. "Like… with the little girl."

"What happened?"

"I had just come into Falkreath. They needed some help working the mill, and I thought that would be something safe. Something I could do," he explained. "When I saw the little girl, I was just... I could feel it coming on. I could taste the… I needed to hunt."

Corvo knew that feeling all too well. "But this pitiful, limited body wasn't meant for hunting," he added. "Slow, no claws. Weak, mashing teeth for chewing cud. I held in my rage as I could. But it boiled inside me. She looked so fragile. Helpless prey. And then…"

He paused again as his expression softened. "I feel terrible about what happened. About what I did. It would probably be best if I just went away. I've been looking for a way to appease Hircine. There is a certain beast in these lands. Large, majestic. It's said that Hircine will commune with whoever slays it. I tracked it into the woods, but then had my accident with the child. I want to beg his forgiveness. Give him back the ring. But while I'm stuck here, the beast wanders free."

The alpha tightened his brows, realizing the danger, but then his expression softened a little. He could not just ignore it. Somewhat reluctantly, he opened his mouth.

"I'll bring it to Hircine."

"Oh my. You would do this for me?" he asked grateful. "Here, take it." Sinding threw the Ring over to Corvo who caught it without problems with his right hand. "I don't want anything to do with this wretched thing anymore. And if you do cure it… keep it. It sounds like you need it more than I do, my friend."

His generosity was noted.

He then told him what to do. "Seek out the beast. He wanders these woods. Bring him down and… well, the Lord of the Hunt should smile on you. I wish you luck, but should leave here while I still have my skin. Should our paths cross again, I will remember your kindness. Farewell."

Sinding then transformed, and escaped through the ceiling of the cell. The alpha backed a little from the gate, exited the jail and placed his right hand at the left side of the door as his expression turned worried, having his back facing Argis.

"Sinding had stolen the Ring of Hircine," he began. Argis' eyes widened, knowing its power. Corvo gently pushed himself away from the wall and turned ninety degrees to his left, held out the hand that wielded the ring.

"However, it's cursed," he added, "and I need to seek out Hircine to have it cleansed."

"Whatever Hircine wants, it's worth it," he replied determined as he was about to move. "C'mon."

"Lad, wait," the other man said stern with tightened brows. The blonde turned so he faced him. "You can't be around me while I'm wearing this. I can lose control any time."

"A better reason for me not to leave your side until it's done."

"Argis, please," Corvo argued a bit hostile. "We don't have time for this."

"That's final."

"I can't lose you!"

"I ain't yours to lose!" he called without thinking it through. His expression immediately softened of his outburst. Corvo remained silent, clenched his jaw angrily with a hard expression. That hurt a lot more than it should have.

"Hey, I didn't mean -" he continued.

"I don't understand you, lad. I certainly never will," the werewolf replied defeated. "Fact is you're too blasted stubborn to tell me what's truly bothering you."

The Housecarl was obviously bothered. "By the Nine Divines, Thane, don't you see?" he replied stern, but calm. "I'm your Housecarl - my duty is to protect you no matter the cost, and when you decide not to tell me about matters like this, I can't protect you -"

"That's not what I'm asking, and you damn well know it," the werewolf stated, as Argis turned his back so it was facing his Thane, placed his hands on his hips with tightened brows. There was a moment of silence. "Why can't we just remain the way we were before Dimhollow?"

Argis' expression hardened. "You don't understand -"

"Blasted, lad," Corvo muttered irritated. "Just tell me!"

The werewolf had never seen him this way. So determined, so bothered by the fact that the mercenary kept all this from him. For all he know, he could have been able to help the Dragonborn in some way. Help him look for a solution. However, Corvo did not allow him. He wanted to do this himself.

Argis determined turned around again. "Dammit, Corvo, I almost killed you -!"

"I came back!"

The mercenary had stepped forward at his reply, walked up to his Housecarl, and remained eye contact all the way. Argis took after his eyes with his right index finger and thumb as he closed them, and then started moving. There was no point arguing. There was no doubt that the Housecarl was bothered by this. He was protective, and that made him unable to think straight, sometimes forgetting that he had a job to do. Feelings could not get in between his job and the way he swore that he would make the best decisions without personal interference. It became more and more difficult to remain true to his job.

He had allowed himself to get far too attached to his Thane to be able to make the correct decisions anymore. He was sure that resigning as a Housecarl would be the best choice for them both. He decided not to make that decision right now. At the same time, he entrusted no one but himself the responsibility of keeping Corvo safe, knowing that they might not be willing to die for his Thane. He was, without a question.

"I'm done talking 'bout this," the Housecarl muttered wearily.

...

Corvo used his Predator Vision, revealing warm presences at a long distance.

It would help him track down the beast. His eyes widened, indicating that he had found the White Stag. It was a big deer with white fur. The mercenary used the crossbow, shot down the deer in one hit, as the bolt piercing its skull. They approached its corpse. A deer aspect appeared in the very front of them.

The mercenary moved his attention to it. "Are you Hircine?"

"I am the spirit of the hunt," Hircine replied disembodied, "just one glimpse of the glorious stalker your kind calls Hircine."

Corvo was aware that the Lord of the Hunt wanted something in return. Daedric Princes just worked that way. They never gave anything for free. The mercenary had good experience with several Daedric Princes - Nocturnal, Hircine, Clavicus Vile, Hermaeus Mora, Malacath, Vaermina, Sanguine, Sheogorath, Peryite, Azura, Meridia... even Mephala and Mehrunes Dagon. He did not have much knowledge about Boethia or Namira, though. He despised Boethia the moment she asked him to kill someone close to him. In this case, there was no reason to, because she did not threaten to punish him for not doing so.

Namira was part of a cannibal cult. Corvo might be a werewolf - but he was no cannibal - unless he appeared in Beast Form when his choices were not his own.

He just hoped that the price was not too high. "What will you have me do?"

Hircine seemed pleased by his answers. "Your fealty is precious to me. I will make good use of it," he stated. "The one who stole it has fled to what he thinks is his sanctuary. Just as a bear climbs a tree to escape the hunt, but only ends up trapping himself. Seek out this rogue shifter. Tear the skin from his body, and make it an offering to me."

"He's done me no wrong," the Dragonborn replied. "I won't kill him."

Argis' expression hardened, turned around so his back faced him - placed his hands on his hips. The Dragonborn was right, but this could be his chance. He would not have to run anymore, could sleep peacefully... He would be able to control his transformations, which he certainly did not now. There was only a matter of time before he turned. It was all so uncertain, and not being able to know if his Thane was in pain or not, worried the Housecarl. The mercenary was not known to show his emotions so easily.

"There is no retribution in the hunt. It is not vengeance I seek, but the blood course of a living hunt," the Daedric Prince stated genuine. Hircine's aspect slowly vanished into thin air. "There are others who hunt him while you delay. Your choice."

Corvo was about to start moving, but was stopped by Argis who was about to say something.

"What's the point of fighting for my humanity if I'll lose it in the process, lad?"

"I know, Corvo. I wasn't gonna say that," the other man replied. "Whatever you do, I've got your back."

...

Bloated Man's Grotto was a beautiful inside oasis, and fortunately, Corvo was blessed of not turning a single time.

The two did nothing more, focused on the matter at hand, and wouldn't stop before it was done. The sight of several fresh dead hunters met them, blood splatter lying about, deep claw marks, but they had yet to start rotting. It was a massacre. One was still alive, a khajiit named J'Kier.

His back was resting at a rock as he cradled a wound with his hand, not having much time left. "Has the Blood Moon called you, fellow hunters? The prey is strong, stronger than the hunters," J'Kier muttered through a hoarse tone.

"But more will come," he added. "Bring him down, for the glories of Lord Hircine."

It did not take long before the wounds claimed him, draining his life, until he could no longer breathe. Only moments after, they spotted Sinding who was trapped behind a cloak of fur, but yet being able to speak. He was standing on a huge mountain hill several meters up, overlooking the interior.

"Corvo… why?" he asked. "Never thought I'd see you again."

"I've been sent to kill you."

Sinding was somewhat resisting the urge of just allowing it to happen, to end his silent suffering. "And I would deserve it, wouldn't I?" he asked. His soul was filled with guilt as he felt unclean. "I can't stop you if that's what you want to do. Hircine is too powerful."

The nord made a promise. "I won't kill you, Sinding. I have no reason to."

"Thank the Gods," the pack member replied relieved. "Now let's deal with these other hunters. We hunt together once more!"

Shortly after, they met the hunters, and brought down the eight practicing champions. Corvo approached Sinding after all of them were dead. He made it clear that he would make his home there, away from anyone he might hurt. They exited the cave that Corvo wanted nothing more than to get as far away from as possible, portraying the Hunting Grounds that his soul was devoted to end up in the afterlife. Corvo wished for Sovngarde, but having devoted himself to several Daedric Princes such as Hircine and Nocturnal, he did not know what to expect. The thought terrified him.

The Aspect of Hircine appeared before them once again, opening his mouth as his disembodied voice filled the clear sky.

"Well met, hunter," the aspect spoke.

The werewolf stood his ground. He did not need to apologize. "I defy you and your vile tasks."

"So you may think," Hircine replied impressed. Corvo could feel his own brows furrowing. "By bringing down my other Hunters, you turned the chase inside out. And they were no base prey. You continue to amuse and impress. Go forth, with my blessing."

The aspect then faded once again, this time, remaining in the Hunting Grounds, ready to bask upon the next hunt. Corvo moved his attention to the silver ring with the carved wolf head, which briefly shone, much to their confusion. As he realized, he turned around so he faced Argis, awaiting a sign or answer on what was happening. Corvo's wolf-alike eyes turned back to his original, beautiful grey-blue color, his premolar fangs retracting back into his mouth as his eyes widened in surprise. He tilted his head up so his eyes met Argis', as his expression softened in relief. The mercenary's expression said it all.

Nothing more needed saying. Argis stepped forward and forced Corvo into a protective bear hug, which was exactly what he needed. Corvo felt himself melting in his Housecarl's embrace, holding tightly around him, as they both had tightened brows and closed eyes. There was a moment left in silence of the two just holding around each other.

Argis then pushed himself gently a little away with his right hand, as they opened their eyes. "We should get moving."

...

Corvo placed his right hand at the door handle leading to Vlindrel Hall, gently pushed it open and entered, followed by Argis.

"Get some sleep, all right?" Argis advised. "You need it."

Corvo thought he finally was able to sleep again, and not lay awake all night, closing his eyes but no sleep befalling him. That's when he remembered that he had never truly slept well, even before being a werewolf, for obvious reasons. The clock was 04:28. He awoke, and sudden, he sat up. With a trembling hand, he wiped the slight sweat away from his brow, regretting using the Ring. He felt he was breathing heavier, tightened his brows in frustration, as he moved his hands to his face. He soon rose up from the bed, threw the bed sheet to the side, and knocked the closest cupboard over.

Glass crushed leaving only fragments, furniture was toppled over as the werewolf forced himself not to shout in agony.

Corvo placed himself by the left bedside, feet planted on the ground, as his left arm rested at the left side of his lap. He took after his head with his right. The werewolf soon drew the ebony dagger with his left hand, the tip pointing straight towards the bedroom door, but lowered it at once he saw Argis leaning to the door opening. The Housecarl had awoken because of the sudden commotion in the left wing. His expression softened as he looked up from his hand. He moved his head so he was looking forward again, and then gently threw the blade out in front of him. He moved his left arm back to resting at his left leg.

"Sorry if I woke you, lad."

The Dragonborn moved his right hand to his own left upper-arm, gently moving his hand up and down, as he could still feel the cold embrace of the Daedric Prince of Dreams. He was used to this, but it had been months since he last slept, his beast blood keeping him awake. Argis completely ignored his apology, caring for nothing more than Corvo's well-being, as the Housecarl steadily walked over to him, ignoring the glass fragments. The cold embrace retreated and was replaced with unfamiliar warmth like a lover's embrace that was not uncomfortable in any way, as the Housecarl placed himself sitting to Corvo's left.

His expression was somewhat softened - but Argis was a difficult man to read. "What's wrong?"

"Nightmares."

"Gods curse that Vaermina..." Argis uttered in disgust.

Corvo thought it over. "I almost miss the perks of not being able to fall asleep, realizing how bad they were. Completely forgot how the lass has tormented me ever since I was a child. Especially after…" He cut himself off.

After a pause he continued "…after Cyril, I guess."

"I don't know what happened, but… I'm sorry."

Seconds went.

Corvo begun explaining. "The Thalmor ambushed us. They had found the whereabouts of my father, and didn't waste a moment to start looking for him," he clarified. "The bastards kicked down the door, so he drew his blade, defending us off. He took down five of them until he pushed me into the room besides, told me to run towards the back-door, and shut the door behind me, not to open it no matter what."

His expression saddened a little as he uttered the final words. "I was four."

The Housecarl was compassionate. "Was it about him?"

"No, lad," he confirmed, and then paused, not revealing anything more. "It was a friend."

Argis.

"I'm sure he's, ah, she's…? not going anywhere, Thane. Count on that," he assumed. Few seconds went. "Want me to stay?"

He turned his head to his left so he faced his Housecarl who moved his own eyes to his, thinking of how Argis' warmth had practically forced Vaermina away, so maybe so presence did something about it. "It'd certainly help me sleep better."

He spoke after a moment. "Then I'm staying."

There was just something about Argis' eyes that the Dragonborn could not quite place, how they were able to show emotions, even when Argis' hard expression rarely changed enough to notice. They were warm, inviting, compassionate and protective that confused him to no end. His expression softened, which Argis seemed to notice, as his expression softened as well. The werewolf fast broke the eye contact before he completely lost control over his actions, resisting the far too tempting urge of pushing his Housecarl into the bed, and finding out why.

Not even Elena made me lose control like that.