Valleri stared over the training yard from her spot on the edge of the Skyforge. The yard was dark, almost black, compared to the pool of light that made up the plaza towards her right. Her breath was shaky; anything she tried to do to calm down wasn't working. Valleri had no idea why she had gotten so upset about what the old man had said. Vilkas was right, the man was obviously drunk and drunk people said foolish things.

But when that man mentioned the Altmer and the death of her friends, Valleri couldn't stand it. Rage welled up inside of her chest almost immediately, but when he turned, it melted. The rageful, hateful feeling was replaced with a cold emptiness, a memory of Masser and Secunda on her first night alone. It was a lonely feeling Valleri had suspected was there since her friends had died.

Valleri wasn't ready to face them yet; not yet.

Valleri didn't hear the footsteps behind her until her companion stopped almost right behind her. Vilkas sat down on the stone with a grunt. He breathed in then turned to look at her. His grey eyes were apologetic but Valleri felt none of it. "It took me a while to find you, I thought you'd be down in the bunkroom. Vignar was… out of line. He's drunk, but you're right. It was no excuse," the Nord trailed off.

"Vilkas?"
"Yeah?"
Valleri felt a lump in her throat, dry and cracked, "What am I doing here?"
The man shrugged, turning his head to view the festival below, "Can't really say for sure but probably hiding away from the others."

Valleri shook her head. She scowled, frustration began to boil over, "No, what am I doing? I thought I was going into Dwemer ruins with Alastaros and Lexius, looking for one of the last great relics of the Merethic. How did I end up here?"

"What's wrong with 'here'?"

Valleri's head whipped around, curls flying haphazardly in her face. She breathed out with a snarl. Vilkas continued to stare at her with only hint of interest. "Didn't you see what just happened? I was accused of a crime I had nothing to do with and threatened to be handed over to dictator elves. I was scared to even come here in the first place because of that but this was my only option, and now all I know is that I was right," Valleri was almost yelling at him by the time she stopped, scowl fading into a tight-lipped frown, "Maybe I should just cut my losses and go back to Anvil."

Neither of them said anything for several minutes as Valleri tried to recompose herself again. The woman drew her knees close to her chest. Flax curls covered her arms as she laid her head on her legs and breathed out shakily. Vilkas stared upwards and moonlight hit his face, illuminating pale skin. He began to speak softly, "You talk a lot about how wonderful Alastaros and Lexius were. What were they like?"

Valleri glanced at him confusedly, "Excuse me?" Vilkas could see tear tracks running down her face.
The corner of his lips curled upwards in a small smirk, "There's at least one reason you're still here, looking for the people that murdered them. Come on, what is it?"

Valleri breathed outwards shakily and looked forward into the darkness. She sat still for a moment. Her frown turned serious as Valleri contemplated what to say. Finally, Valleri spoke in a steady, quiet voice, "Lexius was my brother," she paused, looking at Vilkas, but continued before he could fill the silence, "Not like you and Farkas though. We weren't related really but he treated me like we were. Alastaros helped bail him out of a life sentence in the Imperial City before taking him in. I never heard the full story but Lex was good at finding things, getting into places. Stuff like that. Stupid, annoying Lex."

"What about Alastaros? He was an elf, right?"

Valleri finally smiled, even if it was slight, "Yeah. He left Alinor years before the war because of his research on ancient elves. He wasn't in the good graces of the Synod, so all of his expeditions were looked down on as useless or illegal. Never stopped him though."

"Sounds like your friends had questionable habits," Vilkas grimaced a bit, but Valleri's grin only grew wider.

Valleri chuckled to herself, "Can't deny that." She paused, looking up at the sky with a wistful expression, "Alastaros always said that the works of geniuses were rarely appreciated in their time. He was right though. My father was right."

"You considered him your father?"
Valleri breathed out, "Gladly. That stupid elf took me away from a life as just another priestess; gave me a reason to live when I didn't have one. I'd say that's deserving enough."

Vilkas glanced at her with furrowed eyebrows, "What about your blood father?" He paused, looking over to Valleri. She stared at him with a grimace and Vilkas could feel himself begin to panic. Vilkas recomposed himself quickly and started again with an even tone, "Kodlak may be the man who raised my brother and I, but Jergen was there first regardless. I feel no particular love for the man, but I can at least acknowledge him."
Valleri shook her head. "No, I can't. You grew up with stories and a name. For all I know he could have been a monster. Alastaros was there for me though. Stupid elf was still supposed to be here…" the woman trailed off, grimace growing as her mouth became a thin line. Vilkas could see her starting to shiver.

The man sighed, continuing to look at their surroundings. The festival down below was beginning to die down as people made their way back to their respective homes. Danica would begin to clean up what was left of the festival, opting to take down the lanterns when she was sober again. "What about you?"
"What?"
Vilkas tilted his head to the side, "If you go back to Anvil, you won't be here for them. Their killers won't pay the weregild unless you find them. At the very least make them pay," He smirked as he looked back over to Valleri.

The woman sighed as she began to stand up. She stretched, humming all the while with a small smile and tired eyes, "You're right. They'd do the same for me." Valleri looked down to Vilkas, grin widening, "Thank you, friend."

Vilkas froze but soon shook his head, "It's the truth. The least I can do is help you see it." Valleri proffered a hand out to him, offering to help him up from his seat on the stone. "I think I'll stay here for a while," Vilkas muttered.

Valleri sighed, turning on her heel with a laugh, "Fine, you stubborn Nord. Just don't stay out in the cold too late." She could hear him stifle a laugh as she went down the steps. For some reason, the night time chill wasn't as bad as earlier and the lump in Valleri's throat was no longer there. The pit in her stomach was, but she could handle it now. Valleri felt that avenging the deaths of her friends was no longer the best option, but her determination was reignited. She could handle it. She could face it.

…

Vilkas could smell Farkas coming down the hall towards their bunkrooms. It wasn't a bad scent, just Farkas; no steel, no sweat, and no blood. It was easy for him to pick out his brother in the myriad of other people in the basement. Farkas was one of the only stable things in his life and Vilkas was always keenly aware of his absence.

Farkas rounded the corner and stopped at the entrance leading into Vilkas' room. The man was smiling widely as he leaned on the door jam. Vilkas turned from his seat to face him with a tired look of confusion, "Is everything okay?"

Farkas beamed brighter, "Yep!"

"Ysolda said yes, huh?" Vilkas muttered, turning his attention back to the book he was skimming before Farkas came in to bother him

"Absolutely she did!"

"That's wonderful," Vilkas replied with disinterest, "So, what does that mean exactly?"

Farkas paused, smile fading momentarily, "I dunno, we're officially courting I guess. I'm excited though."

"You should be. Ysolda might be the one for you."

Farkas smiled meekly, "I sure hope so; she's so wonderful though, and sweet, and strong and..." Farkas began to trail off and staring off into space.

Vilkas nodded and continued to scan the pages of book before flipping forward. Farkas stood watching him with a blank expression. Vilkas glanced up at him with a grimace, "Did you need something."

"Not really," Farkas muttered, "Are you happy though?"

"Excuse me?" Vilkas' frown deepened as he set the book down beside him.

"You're almost thirty."

"You are too, Farkas. Don't forget we have the same birthday."

Farkas looked on nervously, "Not what I meant. I've never seen you take an interest in anybody outside of a fling. At this rate you're going to end up alone."

"What's wrong with that?" Vilkas growled as he glared at Farkas.

"Aren't you lonely?"

Vilkas paused looking down to his lap. He thought of Valleri up on the Skyforge telling him about her family, the way she spoke with such warmth. He could see the way she looked on with longing when she talked about Anvil and the Gold Coast. The way she talked about Alastaros and Lexius was pitiful; she knew it to, but she had to be honest. She was lonely here in Skyrim without them.

Maybe deep down Vilkas felt similarly. There was no reason for him to feel that way though. He had grown up in Whiterun and everybody he cared for was still alive. There was no basis for such feelings.

"You're a fool, Farkas. I'm not lonely."

Farkas sighed, "If you say so. I'll see you tomorrow."

Vilkas watched his brother turn around and walk into his room before the door closed. He took the book back and tried to read again. He may have occasionally missed people while they were gone, but that wasn't loneliness. Vilkas would never be lonely.

…

The woman was still sitting on the back porch, sipping on some left-over mead. She swished the golden liquid around in the goblet, watching the torch light glint off the sides of the goblet. She sighed, sleep wasn't going to come tonight; too much alcohol always made her more aware of the beast blood pulsing through her, if that was even possible.

Finally, she could hear her companion trudge along the side of the mead hall. The man was probably intoxicated as well. Everybody who had partaken of the festival earlier in the evening was drunk on some level. The man rounded the corner and waved. The woman smiled.

"Are we sure about this? We should probably wait until we're a bit more sober."

The woman laughed, "The hunt has a way of doing that already. We've done it before in much more inebriated states. Remember last year?" The man grunted in reply and the woman continued, "Besides it's not like we're up against an army. Just a few trolls, maybe a giant, and we're done."

The man shook his head and waited for the woman to join him. "If this gets out, Kodlak will have some things to say."
"He always does. Didn't you hear him getting on Farkas for what happened with Valleri?"
"The old man's on edge. We should take it easy for a bit."
The woman glared at the man, "He won't find out. I'm going to go regardless." She slung her bow over her shoulder and began towards the city gate. The man huffed and started to follow, but didn't bother to catch up.

The field was vast in front of them and the woman started off into a sprint. There was no feeling quite like the freedom of running off into the night. There were no cities or laws or people to stop her from doing as she pleased. If she didn't have so many people in the city she cared about, the woman would have started living out here in the wilderness a long time ago. Responsibility was a funny thing.

Soon enough the man caught up to her and the two of them continued on together. It wasn't long before they found something hiding in the scrub brushes of the tundra. It was nearly impossible for anything to hide effectively on the plain but the woman had to give the misguided troll credit for trying. The two of them took joy in the chase, the troll leading them west. The terrain began to drop steadily. The woman steeled herself as she slid down cliff faces.

Suddenly there was a grunt behind her. The man sat grimacing at the bottom of the rock face, cradling his calf. The woman cursed loudly as she saw the small figures coming at them from the horizon. They were surrounded quickly.

The distance between her and the new group was too close for her to be effective with the bow she had on her back and a small knife wasn't going to be any good. She was about ready to start the transformation when she heard a snarling behind her. The man was already ahead of her.

It wasn't long into the battle that she saw the man beast struck down. His fur was matted with blood and red was streaming down his chest. Most of the blood was from those of the ambush party, but the woman was sure some of it was his. The man beast was slowing down. She began to feel her arms and back tingle as she began her own transformation. This situation may be becoming dire quickly, but that didn't mean she didn't have her own tricks.

The transformation had only just begun when she felt a crack against her skull and all she saw black.