AN: As always, thank you so much for the continuing support 3

Chapter Nine

the promises we keep

He found the old man in his usual spot, sitting at his table and surrounded by books.

"Ah, Vilkas. Sit down, boy."

Vilkas took his usual seat opposite the Harbinger, and found the words bubbling out his mouth before he could stop himself.

"I know the beast blood is a matter of the Circle, and that it should always be kept secret but it was an accident. I can assure you she'll hold her tongue."

Kodlak's eyebrows rose as he leaned back in his chair.

"By the Nines, lad! What are you talking about?"

Vilkas hesitated, confused.

"The serving girl. She knows about the beast blood." When Kodlak's expression didn't change, he continued. "Last night I came across her while returning home. She was being robbed and I… well, I saved her." He felt a ripple of guilt at leaving the whole story unsaid, but Kodlak seemed not to notice.

"Did you now?" he said with a smile. "Farkas told me you've been helping her, teaching her how to fight. It's good to see you taking interest in a girl again. You've been far too focussed on work of late, and-"

"It's not like that," Vilkas denied hotly. "If I left her to play with swords she'd only end up hurting herself. And gods know what those men might have done if I hadn't intervened."

The smile on Kodlak's face said plainly that he was not convinced. "No matter," he continued after a moment, the smile fading. "The girl isn't why I summoned you."

"Harbinger?"

There was a knock at the door before Farkas entered.

"Pull up a chair, boy."

Once Farkas was settled, Kodlak leaned forward, resting his hands on his thighs. He sighed before starting. The twins listened closely, Vilkas at first uninterested by the Harbinger's talk of dreams and visions. He'd never been one to search for meaning and wisdom in dreams; the few he did have were rather straightforward, and left an unpleasant taste in his throat. The longer Kodlak spoke, however, the more his temper began to rise, turmoil blistering in the pit of his stomach. His respect for the old man was the only thing that kept him from interrupting. Farkas was silent, his eyes unreadable while a frown creased his brow. By the time Kodlak finished, Vilkas was livid.

"You mean to tell me, that all this time, we had a choice?"

Kodlak's eyes were sad as he answered. "It would seem so."

As a lad, barely able to grow his own chin hairs, Vilkas had been desperate to partake in the beast blood. It had seemed a necessary rite of passage, becoming a man by becoming a beast. As the years passed, however, the grandeur and pride had worn thin, causing him to constantly question himself and whether it had been worth it after all. The years had forged them into one, making it difficult to tell where the man ended and the beast began. To be told now that it had been a choice?

He turned to Farkas expectantly, but his brother remained silent and nonchalant as ever, his brow still furrowed. Agitation got the best of him, and he slammed his palm on the table. Kodlak surveyed him with morose eyes.

"You feel deceived."

"You're damned right I do!" Farkas looked at him in surprise. "All this time, all these long damned years I've been struggling with what I am. But it was all okay, it was all bearable because I didn't have a choice. You're telling me it was all for nothing? That we gave up Sovengarde to spend an eternity battling the nature of our blood in Hircine's realm for no better reason than those who came before us did the same? I could have-"

He stopped, choking on the words. I could have eaten that girl.

"I understand, Vilkas," Kodlak murmured, and the look in his eyes told Vilkas that he truly did. "Please sit down, though. I'm not finished."

He'd been so consumed by his rage that he hadn't even noticed getting to his feet. His chair lay toppled behind him. Face still hot, he yanked the chair back onto its legs and sat down. Farkas reached out to grasp his forearm briefly. Vilkas ignored him, his burning eyes on Kodlak.

"I believe there is a cure."

Farkas turned quickly to Kodlak; Vilkas merely stared.

"I haven't found it yet, but I believe that somewhere in the magic" – Vilkas twitched in agitation at the word – "of the Glenmoril witches who started all this, there is a cure."

"How are you gonna-"

"Do the others know?" Vilkas asked in a clipped voice, cutting his brother off.

"I've spoken to Skjor. He didn't take it well either. I have no doubt he's told Aela by now. I don't expect them to come around. They always took to the blood deeper than any of us."

"So that's it then," Vilkas said, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice.

"Not quite, there's one last thing."

More? He did not think he could handle more, but he mustered enough self-control to remain quiet.

"I don't expect an answer right away. I understand that I'm asking much of you both. But… should you wish to pursue this cure with me – by no means will I force your decision – but if you do, I believe it would be best to give up our transformations."

Vilkas' eyebrows rose. Not give in to the call? Was it even possible? He'd thought for so long that despite his struggles, he was in control and the beast obeyed his will. The events of last night had planted the seed of doubt. But would denying it altogether strengthen his will, or only cause the beast to strain harder?

"Think on it, won't you?" Kodlak said, rising stiffly from his seat. They were being dismissed. Vilkas stood and strode from the room without another word, Farkas close behind. In the hall, they looked at each other.

"What do you think, brother?"

Farkas took a long moment before replying.

"Don't know yet."

Vilkas nodded, knowing Farkas' words for what they really meant: whatever Vilkas decided, Farkas would follow. He left his brother to retire to the bar where he made his bed, and stalked outside to clear his head. Dalla was nowhere in sight, but leaning easily against a pillar on the patio was Aela, her dark eyes glinting in the moonlight.

"The old man spoke to you then."

Vilkas nodded, rubbing his temple wearily.

"Give up the beast blood," she scoffed, more to herself than to him. "It's who we are shield-brother, and nothing to be ashamed of. The old man can't expect us to give it up just because he's grown soft."

"Watch yourself shield-sister," he replied with a growl. "You go too far."

Her face darkened, traces of the animal peering through her eyes. It was unnerving at times, how much the wolf was present even when she wore her human skin.

"The serving girl was asking for you today."

Vilkas didn't respond.

"How long are you going to keep up this training nonsense with her?"

"As long as it takes," he replied, tone clipped.

"You're going to be at it a while then. The girl's not a warrior. Although… you could always turn her."

In an instant his hackles rose.

"No."

She smirked, sensing his agitation. "Just because you struggle with what you are, doesn't mean your pet would feel the same. Besides, that at least would make her strong."

"If you so much as touch her-"

"Relax shield-brother." She sniffed in disdain. "I have no wish to pass on my bloodline to a coward. She's safe from me."

He watched her go reproachfully, disappearing into the Underforge. Aela embraced the beast in a way he had never been able to, taking the good with the bad as one. To her, it was the greatest gift she'd been given in life. To Vilkas, it wasn't a gift to be a monster. A deep sigh escaped his lips as he gazed up at the stars. His decision had been made.