This one was relatively easy to write for some reason o.o;
Let me know what you guys thought? :D

"Vilkas, come in for a moment." Kodlak greeted him and gestured for him to sit in the empty chair beside the table the Harbinger was sitting at. The younger man looked up at the elder before nodding lightly and slowly taking his seat. He heard the old man sigh heavily. Kodlak avoided his gaze for a moment before turning to look at the younger Companion. "I heard what happened."

Vilkas' hand unconsciously went to the bandage that was where his eyebrows met and lightly squeezed the bridge of his nose in annoyance, blowing out the air in his lungs. "Oh, have you now?"

"I'm not going to laugh, Vilkas. You should know me better than that by now, you of all people." Kodlak looked down the empty hallway through the open doors. Vilkas looked up at the Harbinger and shamefully hung his head lightly, clamping his eyes shut and wondering how things became so fucked in a matter of days.

"Apologies, Harbinger."

Kodlak huffed in reply. "I suppose you want to know about her."

Vilkas' silence was his form of assent as he pursed his lips and nodded his head. The Harbinger looked back at him and smiled wryly. "I knew her father well. Very brave man." He sighed bitterly as he felt a lump in his throat and chest build, looking through the open doors once more. "He joined the Companions after The Great War, and was one of my most trusted friends. He…He was a highly decorated soldier in the war, and he eventually joined the ranks of the Circle."

The younger Companion listened intently, knowing there was more to his tale. "He was annulling his first marriage when he joined. His wife…" Kodlak scoffed bitterly. "She was a complete bitch, frankly. She accused Phil of cheating on her while he was taking jobs left and right to come up with the coin to pay for their two daughters…" he shook his head sadly. "And they were no better than her. Phil was usually tumbling in, sleep deprived and amazingly still able to carry his body to the nearest bench and pass out."

There was a pause. Kodlak didn't know how to continue by the way he was pursing his lips and Vilkas had questions buzzing in his head. "Aeiron isn't a full-blooded Nord, is she?" Kodlak looked back at him and shook his head.

"She's Celtic, like her father." He answered straightforwardly. The wolf twin frowned.

"I've been hearing that word constantly over the past few days. Harbinger," he pleaded. "What does it mean?"

"The Celts have been around for a long time. No one knows exactly how long. They're mutts, if you will. A conglomeration of other races, both mer and human alike. Most Celtic tribes dwell in the highlands of Cyrodiil and the low lands and mountain ranges of Skyrim, but they run scare here, my boy; only a handful in each reach and only one in Whiterun."

"Aeiron." Vilkas answered and the Harbinger nodded at him once more before continuing on.

"Phil fell in love with a half-Imperial woman who was also half-Nord." The old man chuckled with nostalgia. "You would laughed at how long and hard he chased her around. He eventually followed her to Cyrodiil and settled down with her and they had the Stormcloak general you see now." Kodlak nodded up the hallway towards the brunette who was making her way to the Whelps' room with a pleasant smile on her face. "In one conversation I had with Phil, he told me that the Celts practice something similar to Lycanthropy."

Vilkas' eyes narrowed as they stared after the woman, but he was listening to Kodlak all the same. "They adopt an animal spirit chosen for them by Kyne. Philip was chosen to house a horse spirit, speed and endurance being increased ten-fold." The wolf still had his eyes on the brunette, who was talking pleasantly with Ria and Athis now, laughing lightly as she gestured Farkas to join the growing party.

"And what about Aeiron?" Vilkas asked, barely thinking about the question and more about who it entailed. She turned to look down the hallway and saw him glaring at her. Aeiron smirked and waved at him for a second before turning to talk with the wolf's twin.

"For a few years after she was born, Phil wrote to me. He told me that she was chosen as an animal that hasn't been housed in Celts for nearly five centuries…until she was born."

"But she's dragonborn," Vilkas finally turned to look at the older man sitting across from him. "How can she house an animal if she already has the spirit of a dragon inside of her?"

"She is dragonborn, Vilkas. Indeed, she has the blood and spirit of a dragon…However, the animal she houses has more influence over her than the dragonblood."

"And," Vilkas paused to look at the brunette once more and watched her pivot on her heels and give a feral smirk. "what animal would that be?" He couldn't hear the beast blood for once; only her laughing voice and Kodlak's telling one.

"A lion, Vilkas."

And suddenly, her thick mane for a head of hair and the way her eyes glowed suddenly made sense.

Kodlak gave him a book on the Celts, one that he had been re-reading for hours to comprehend the odd language, but it was pointless. It was written in the same language that Aeiron spoke fluently in, and he would rather go hunting that have to socialize with her. He hated her, after all. At least, Vilkas thought he did. It was eleven at night and he hadn't eaten anything since earlier on that day.

Groaning, he slammed the book shut with the hand that held it open and tossed it onto the nightstand before rubbing his face with his hands and forcing himself to gain composure. Vilkas looked at the door and shook his head before he loathingly got up and crossed the threshold to his bedroom door and trudged upstairs to the mead hall.

He grabbed the nearest bottle of ale and popped the cork of with little to no effort before taking a long swig of the alcohol.

CLANG!

Vilkas paused and then looked towards the set of double doors to the training yard. He heard it again, much to his disbelief.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

Was someone really using the Skyforge to smith something at this time of night? Only one way to find out…

As Vilkas left Jorvaskr and opened the door to Whiterun city, the noise of clashing metal indeed grew louder. His feet brought him to the Skyforge and his nose picked up her scent. When he reached the top of the stairs, he finally believed his nose and froze. The bridge of his nose relieved the pain of being slapped by her battle axe all over again.

Aeiron was out of her Stormcloak Officer armor, now donning a pair of bandages on her arms that covered her hands and cascaded past the fabric barrier of her top, which would be something that a man at a tavern would wear; a short sleeve emerald green shirt that was longer on her and cut past the elbow and a chocolate brown vest over that with a belt tying it around her waist. A quiver of steel arrows rested against her back that threatened to spill every time she bent forward. She wore a lighter shade of green pants that were cuffed over at her ankles. Looking down at her feet, Vilkas still noted that she wore her officer boots and her pants were cuffed when they reached her ankles. The embers made her face glow, sweat beading and crawling down the skin of her face from her brow and temples. He treaded with caution, watching as she picked up the metal with prongs and dipped it in the water by her side.

As she went to pick up another piece of Ebony metal, she happened to look up and see the grumpy Companion crossing his arms and eyeing her questioningly with an eyebrow raised. Aeiron smirked at him, as if she was genuinely happy to see him and laughed unbelievingly. "Dia duit!" she shouted at him before turning back to hammering at the black metal. Vilkas was baffled to say the least, blinking his eyes and trying to comprehend what she had just said to him.

"What?" he shouted back.

She paused and turned to face him once more. "Dia. Duit." She said slower this time, smiling pleasantly. "It means 'hello' in Gaelic." Vilkas nodded in understanding as she stared at him for a moment longer before turning back to the forge.

He watched her and the way she was bending the metal into her desired shape, seeing it deform into something that looked like it would be from the planes of Oblivion. Curiosity was finally getting the best of him. "What are you making?" he asked, leaning a bit forward as he did.

Aeiron paused once more, turning to face him with a skeptical look. "What?" her question came out sounding more annoyed than she currently was by the abrupt pause she had to take, but none the less, she appreciated the company.

Vilkas cupped his mouth and shouted louder this time. "What in Oblivion are you making?"

"Ohhhh!" she giggled lightly and let her hand holding the hammer drop to her side. "A Daedric bow!" She smiled at his paling face and the way his jaw slacked. A what?

His rapidly blinking eyes showed his disbelief at her answer and she laughed louder this time. Aeiron smirked and gestured for him to come over and observe by her side. Vilkas was walking against his will, but at the same time, he wanted to be closer to the forge and not let the chilling wind blowing through the city slice through his body as badly.

She began hammering away again, clearly an expert on the craft with the way she hammered the metal down in all of the right places. He stared down at the red hot metal before looking back up at the Celt and let the scowl on his face leave him somewhat. "Why a Daedric weapon?" Vilkas asked in a calmer voice as he eyed the brunette.

"They deal more damage. Vampires use them a lot and werewolves have a weakness for them." She answered him, panting lightly from the intense heat as she hammered away at the metal. The wolf growled in annoyance but liked her way of thinking all the same. The beast urged him to keep the conversation flowing after a short awkward pause. Vilkas couldn't help but agree with the notion.

"How long have you known how to smith weapons?"

"Athair taught me." She answered, and then paused to laugh at her own stupidity. "Athair means 'father'." The young Companion nodded and was unknowing to his lips twitching up at the corners. Aeiron went back to her smithing, hitting the hammer a few more times on the metal before switching for the prongs and dipping it in the water once more. She turned to look at him once more, noticing his intense stare on her and blinked up at Vilkas confused. "Something the matter?"

Vilkas was startled when his chain of thought was severed and turned away, frowning deeply while shaking his head. Aeiron stared after him for a moment and then shrugged nonchalantly before returning to her metal work. The ebony came out of the water steaming and Aeiron placed it on the anvil once more. She put the hammer down on the side with a careful slowness in her movements and held out her hand, palm open expectantly.

The Companion saw Aeiron's hand and looked up at her, raising his eyebrows lightly. "Hand me my pouch over there?" She spoke gently, gesturing to the far side of the forge with her head and a small frown on her face. Vilkas eyed her for a moment with cold eyes before doing as she asked, dropping the pack's leather handle in her hand that made her arm sag down with the weight. Aeiron gave him a tense glance before kneeling down and placing the pack on the ground and sifting through its contents.

He watched her produce a Daedric heart from the bag, pounding and twitching in her hand as if it were still alive. Vilkas watched her sullen face as she tossed it up in the forge's flames. The fire glowed a bright red, flames giving off the aura of death. "I don't think Eorlund would appreciate you doing this to his forge," Vilkas finally spoke up, raising an eyebrow as he had before with a disapproving look.

Aeiron turned to look back at him, corners of her lips twitching upwards ever so slightly. "It doesn't last long. He'll never know unless you open your mouth." She didn't wait for an answer and he didn't give one, so she turned her attention back to the flame and picked up the set of prongs to fetch the daedra heart out of the forge's mouth. Vilkas was once again drawn to the way the embers and sparks danced around her, around the beating heart in the prong's metal jaws as she pulled it out from the forge and poured the blood seeping out of the dead organ into the slots in the Ebony bow.

Red lights that mimicked the aurora dancing in the sky above seethed around her. She breathed in the decaying stench around her deeply with a small smirk, almost as if she was unfazed by it. Vilkas by now was holding his nose and it stung for him to keep his eyes open. Why he was still around, he didn't know. "Vilkas," She turned to look up at him. The Companion opened his eyes that threatened to water and saw the calm look in them, envied her for being able to keep her composure with the deadly essence leaking out of the daedra heart. "You can leave, if it's bothering you too much." The general then undid the bandages on her left hand and fished out an oddly shaped dagger from her pack, a black and silver one that had a daedra character on it halfway up the scabbard.

Vilkas watched with widened eyes as she carefully removed the scabbard with her hand and put it down on the stone edge of the forge. The brunette sliced through her palm lightly and let her blood drip into the slots where the daedra blood had been drying. Aeiron breathed through gritted teeth, muttering words that he could barely picked up with his heart pounding in his ears. The daedra blood was making him go insane with rapidly blurring vision and a thirst in the back of his throat that only the wolf could satisfy.

"It's over, Vilkas." She spoke lightly, using light restoration magic to heal her injury on her hand and then turned to look up at him. The flames in the forge by now had returned to normal, the air becoming clearer to breathe once more. Vilkas' vision slowly turned back to normal as he made a blurry outline of the brunette's body approaching him. Aeiron stopped before him and flicked him on the forehead playfully. "Thought I lost you there, Grumpy."

Everything was crystal clear in that moment through his senses. He could see the taunting smile on her face, the mischievous gleam in her eyes, her laughter now ringing in his ears as she turned on her heal and walked back towards the forge. He watched her movements and saw her pick up the bow, blue aura seeping through the Ebony instead of the usual red that he had seen once or twice. Vilkas stared, the aura drawing him closer towards it. "What did you do to it?" he asked with cautious footsteps.

Aeiron smirked and tossed it lightly in her hands once before passing it over to the Companion in the air. He caught it with much ease and didn't flinch as the lukewarm metal rested in his bare hands, sharp and hardening metal poking into his hands lightly. "I did one better." She replied, rewrapping her hand with the bandage from before. With a finger, Aeiron pointed to the bow in his hands. "That, Grumpy," She began, placing her hands on her hips with a confident smirk. "Is much more powerful than any daedric weapon around."

Vilkas blinked a few times before looking back up at her. "How—"

Aeiron picked up the dagger from before and sheathed it in its scabbard before waving it in the air. "I have my ways." She picked up her pack and tossed the dagger in the back without a second thought before approaching the Companion and fetching her bow from his curious hands. "I'll see you around, Grumpy." The brunette shouldered her new bow and waved at him as she walked away, calling over her shoulder. "You hate me enough as is. Wouldn't want to damage your handsome face anymore than I already have, let alone give you a reason to scowl all of the time."

He could practically heart the smirk on her face that was sure to be there, and it was when Aeiron turned to face him. "Shouldn't you be going to sleep?"

"Shouldn't you?" Vilkas countered defensively while raising an eyebrow. The second one rose when he watched her roll her eyes and shake her head.

"Can't. Have to leave now."

"For?"

She had begun walking away already, but Aeiron pivoted on her heels once more and hunched over lightly, almost bowing while her hands were spread open on either side. "Tá na liopaí séalaithe." (These lips are sealed.)

Vilkas furrowed his eyebrows and lowered his hands, beginning to follow after her. Her laughter made him stop as she turned around and marched down the steps.

She reached the bottom of the steps in front of Jorvaskr when a flickering shadow made the brunette drop her pack and draw her bow, reaching in the quiver on her shoulder for a steel arrow. Aeiron aimed past the Gildergreen at a figure leaning against the trunk of the tree, smirking in the moonlight. "Now now, Lass, that isn't necessary." Aeiron's frown lightened and her arms slacked at the familiar voice.

"Well, well, the francach salach (dirty rat) decides to drop by." Aeiron smirked bitterly and shouldered her bow and drawn arrow, bending down to pick up the pack she had dropped.

The red haired man stepped forward from the shadows and smirked down at her, raising an amused brow at her. "It's been a long time, Lass." He continued to walk closer to her.

"A little over four years, to be accurate." She replied dryly, hands going to her hips. "What the feck do you want, Brynjolf?"

Bryn placed a hand over his chest and sighed deeply. "You wound me, Lass. I just dropped by to say "hello" and this is how you greet me?"

The brunette scoffed bitterly. "I know you better than to just drop your "work" for some chit-chat." Her frown returned. "Now what is it?"

All traces of humor faded from the thief's face. "I heard about the attack by the vampires."

"Word travels that fast?" Aeiron leaned against the stone wall and crossed her arms, keeping her eyes glued on the thief.

"I did some pokin' around, if you will." He replied dryly and repeating her action, standing next to her and looking down at the brunette.

"What did you find?" Aeiron asked as patiently as she could, her blood was boiling faster than she was counting on.

"I know who sent them." Her silence beckoned Brynjolf to give his answer. His heavy sigh showed his reluctance, but he complied, nonetheless. "The Teaghlaigh want to hold a gathering. They ordered me not to tell you until then."

Aeiron eyed the stone below her feet, cursing under her breath and then looked up at him once more. "When and where?"

"The toppled towers; north of Knifepoint Ridge, this Turdas at midnight."

She nodded and looked down. "Two days from now." Bryn looked down at her with a smirk and then began to walk away.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, Lass," he smirked at her over his shoulder, his brogue flowing smoothly from his lips. Aeiron looked at him boringly and crossed her arms, raising both of her eyebrows. "I'll leave you to your priorities and return to mine." He disappeared into the shadows once more and the brunette rolled her eyes at the other Celt's cockiness. She sighed lightly before continuing past the Gildergreen and casually making her way to Breezehome.

She heard Lydia snoring the second she opened the front door and gently shut it behind her. Aeiron pulled her armor out of her pack and stripped herself of the casual clothes that she wore before donning her armor, putting it on as quickly and quietly as she could. She shoved the clothes into her pack and reached for the nearest sheet of paper and a piece of thinned charcoal that she trimmed for easier writing abilities.

Once she scrawled the note, Aeiron picked up her battle axe and slung it over her shoulder, how bow glowing as it rested below the axe and next to the quiver she still wore on her back. Aeiron looked up the stairs one last time before heading out the front door quietly.

Lydia,

Gone for a few days, something came up. Visit Ralof for me and figure out some way I can call it even with Grumpy.

-Aeiron

P.S. –Say hi to Lucia for me.