It was somehow more satisfying hunting now that the wolf spirit coursed through her. Elana kept up with Aela, firing arrows and slashing with a sword when needed. She was the cautious one this time, a new feeling.
She didn't cool down until everyone else was dead.
"Those bastards…somehow they managed to kill Skjor. He was one of the strongest we had, but numbers can overwhelm. He should not have gone without a Shield-Brother."
The icy pain echoed across Elana's legs. She had learned that lesson all too well. For some, it was too late.
"Glad to see you learning from your mistakes, little one."
And the werewolf thing is a mistake then?
"Get out of here. I'm going to make sure the last of them is dead and if there's any information I can get from the bodies. You and I have work to do. The Silver Hand will tremble at our sight."
Elana nodded and slipped away, rummaging through everything in sight while she could. Aela didn't notice.
"She's looking for her poetic warrior's death."
It's rude to gossip.
"Gossip is speculation and rumors. I spoke the truth. You know she will never quite be happy without him. He was almost as half of her as the wolf is."
Loose lips sink ships, o dragon counselor.
"Don't cover your own grief, hatchling. That is the surest way to further pain."
It's not my grief to have.
"If you do not grieve for him, you can still grieve due to the pain of your friends."
I'm almost glad the wolf did not force you out.
"Ha! It would take more than a mere pup to drive me out. The Daedra you sold your soul to, that's a different matter."
Elana's response was an expletive that ringed not only through her head but through the blood-soaked walls of Gallow's Rock.
The door of Jorrvaskr opened too slowly. Everyone had ample time to turn to face Elana as she entered.
Farkas rose. Elana suddenly realized how little time she had spent with the younger twin and she realized how little she knew him. With the news that swallowed her, she suddenly wanted to spend more time with him.
"Elana, what happened?"
"Aela, Skjor, and I went on a raid of a Silver Hand outpost." Elana drew a shaky breath. "Skjor charged in alone. He's dead."
Everyone reacted violently. It was hard to imagine Skjor dead and defeated. Tilma sighed with the weight of all the Companions she'd seen go over the years. Farkas instantly reached for Ria, who understood death but had never felt it. Torvar turned to his drink as Athis prayed and Njada stormed away.
Vilkas moved towards Elana before his face crinkled and he recoiled as one who had smelt something foul. He recovered and moved forward again. "Elana, may I talk with you outside?"
He whirled on her in instant the doors shut. "This was a celebratory hunt wasn't it?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about-"
She really should have expected the punch.
"Don't you dare lie, Elana. Skjor is dead." He lunged, swinging again. He used her block to twist her around into a hold. "I can smell the wolf on you. You can smell it on me. Skjor is dead because you couldn't keep your paws out of a curse to pretty to turn away."
"Excuse you!" Elana wrenched free, batting at Vilkas in return. "There wasn't exactly a 'you can walk away from this' vibe. They didn't explain half of what was going on and Skjor is dead because he couldn't wait for a Shield-Sibling!"
As they traded vicious blows, Vilkas came to pin Elana down. "Then let me explain. Hircine, Daedra of the Hunt, gives you a new, deadly form in exchange for eternal servitude in his realm. As a bonus, as humans every sense is enhanced." He brought his face close to hers. "And I mean every sense." His teeth brushed her ear before Elana threw him off.
"You can already feel it. We're well-matched, now that the wolf is giving you speed and strength in addition to your own," Vilkas growled.
Elana snorted. "Oh," she began, shifting so Vilkas was backing the practice dummies. "I wouldn't say that. FUS!"
Genuine surprise and shock covered his face as he was blown back into one of the targets. The blow blew away all his anger.
"You, you're the Dragonborn! Why didn't you say so?"
"Because Elan, Thane of Whiterun is the Dragonborn. He's a hero and figurehead that everyone wants to control. Elana the Companion can do as she pleases and save up her money to buy a cottage far away from everyone. And I thought the wolf would chase the dragon out of me, that it could go be someone else, someone who actually want to fight dragons. But no, I sold my soul to a Daedra while the dragon still whispers to me."
"I can leave if you want."
You shut the hell up. A comrade is dead and another just took his grief out on me. I do not have time for you.
"And you, Vilkas, I get that your comrade is dead. He was one of mine to. But it was not my fault and you do not get to take your grief out on me, not when I have my own and you just busted a wound back open."
Elana turned away. "Fight me over my faults. Not what I can't control."
"For what it's worth, Shield-Sister, I apologize. I stepped out of line. I judged you for what you could not control. It will not happen again."
She walked away in silence.
Vilkas had hardly made his way up the steps to Skyforge before Eorland spoke.
"Impressive fight."
"I was swinging a little too wildly-"
"No, no I meant your words. You spoke in anger and in haste, Companion. You let emotions rule. When she had knocked sense into you, you were quick to apologize. As you should have been. But why apologize for what you could have avoided doing in the first place?"
All this was said with a calm, steady voice while the great man bent over the steel, pulling and pushing it into place.
Vilkas looked down in shame. "I have failed."
"Yes."
"What do I do?"
"When your armor is bloodied you polish it. When your shield cracks you re-secure it. When your sword bends you re-temper it."
"I know all this! But Elana is not some piece of equipment I can just will better."
Eorland finally looked up and met Vilkas's eyes, a wise smile on his face. "Now you understand. She is human, like you. She made a choice under duress that she would probably not make again. And she too is burdened by things beyond her control. Tell me, did Elana really change after the dragon attack."
"Well, no."
"Then do not act as if she did."
Vilkas growled. "You say it as if it is so simple!"
"But it is. Simple does not mean easy. As you said, she is no sword. I cannot show you the flame and materials required to heal this break like I can show you how to craft a sword. But I can say this, you will always break apart again and again if you always look at her and see the Dragonborn, the name and identity she did not choose."
"I did not realize I had such a flaw."
"That is why we make friends, Companion. They reflect us."
Eorland fell silent, allowing only the ring of his hammer on the sword to sing out. Vilkas waited for a while, in case the smith might speak again. But he soon understood he was dismissed and the Companion walked back into Jorrvaskr feeling that uncomfortable old feeling of being thoroughly dressed down by his elders. It seems one never fully escapes the need to learn and mature.
It felt like déjà vu, searching for Elana and not finding her.
Vilkas scoured over Jorrvaskr and Whiterun but she had vanished. When he questioned fellow Companions they shrugged, not knowing either. He couldn't use scent to track her, not when as Thane and a Companion she had been all over the city recently.
He finally stopped a woman he recognized as a part of the Jarl's court.
"Excuse me; have you seen a Nord, about yea high, lanky but strong and probably in light or Companion armor? Blond with ice colored eyes?"
"Do you mean Thane Elan?"
"Yes! Have you seen him?"
The brunette rolled her eyes. "Yes. He stopped by Dragonsreach not too long ago to hand off all his extraneous supplies to me, his housecarl, before heading out on some harebrained mission."
"To where?"
"He didn't say. Clearly, he wanted to be alone."
"But do you have any idea where-"
"Listen here, I've only known the guy for two days. Seeing as you're a Companion, I figure you might know him better than I do. I can't give you some character exposé or anything. So sorry, but I can't help you. Now, the Jarl's given me some duties while my Thane is away, and I have to go."
The housecarl brushed past Vilkas. "You really need to work on your people skills, Companion."
He growled, furthering her point. But he accepted defeat and retreated to Jorrvaskr, cursing himself all the way for his folly.
Supplies tied firmly to her back, Elana trudged up the steps to High Hrothgar, pausing every so often to read the carved inscriptions or send a starving wolf to Oblivion.
Internally, she was back to that battle she seemed to face more and more often: who to introduce herself as.
She had meant what she said to Vilkas. As Elana, she was free of any responsibility she chose to take on. But as Elan, the Dragonborn, she had a weighty destiny. To blur the two would cause her yet more strife. However, it seemed wrong to consider lying to the Greybeards. They could probably sniff that lie out in any case.
As Elana sliced the head off an ice wraith, she resolved to figure out who she was in the course of the next five hundred or less steps and introduce herself as that person.
She had killed an ice troll, deposited the supplies in the chest, and set her hand on the doors before she realized she was no closer to resolving the question.
"If I may be of assistance?"
Let me guess, my identity is the Dovahkiin?
"No, hatchling. You are too young to have a grasp of your identity. I have lived through many years, countless ones, and there are times when I yet question myself. The Greybeards will see you as Dovahkiin. They have no other way to see you. They've been waiting for the dragon-in-man to come for so long they will only see the dragon, not the child of Talos you are. They will not see the merchant, the warrior, or the wolf. You cannot fault them. You cannot blame them. After all, you only see Alduin as the destroyer."
What else is he?
"That, little one, is a story for another time. You have your hand on the door. You can walk back down. You say this destiny is thrust upon you. That much is true; but you do have the power to turn away. There is still a choice, Elana."
She bowed her head. No, there really isn't. Because I do know a little of who I am. And I do not turn away from a fight.
And the Dovahkiin stepped into High Hrothgar for the first time in many years.