Nineteen:

Proper induction

Auriel did a few jobs for the Companions before Farkas informed her that Skjor had asked to see her. Intrigued, she tracked down the older Nord to see what he wanted.

"There you are," he nodded a little in greeting. "Your time, it seems, has come."

"Time?" Auriel raised a brow curiously.

"You've been a whelp for a short while, so I wasn't too sure about this, but Farkas says you've handled the jobs well, so I was talked into it. A few days ago, a scholar came to us. He said he knew where we could find another fragment of Wuuthraad. He seemed a fool to me, but if he's right, the honor of the Companions demands that we seek it out."

"...and what exactly does this have to do with me?" Auriel frowned a little. "I am not adverse to retrieving it, mind, but I would like a few more details. Please."

"This is a simple errand, but the timing is right for it to be your Trial," he sighed a little. "Conduct yourself with honor, and you'll be a true Companion. Farkas will be your Shield-Sibling. He'll answer your questions. Try not to disappoint. Or get him killed."

Auriel snorted a little, and went to find Farkas again.

"You pushed for this, didn't you?" she asked dryly.

"...yeah," he admitted sheepishly. "but Kodlak backed me on it. Skjor and Vilkas weren't too happy about it, but you've done some good work, so you earned it."

"I've been part of your group for less than a week," Auriel pointed out cautiously.

"You're still ready," he said firmly. "Anything to ask before we get goin?"

"Why did Skjor call this my Trial?" she asked after a moment. "I thought I already passed inspection when I knocked Vilkas in the dirt."

"Until now you've been going on jobs with no oversight," he shrugged a little. "I watch you to make sure you're honorable in a fight. If you are, then I can call you sister."

Auriel frowned slightly. His attraction to her was an open secret in the hall, and he seemed oblivious to how overt he was about it. She almost wished Skjor had asked someone else, as his word would no doubt be questioned.

"...I suppose we should head to Dustman's Cairn then."

"Yup. Let's go."

Farkas led the way, and Auriel let him, though she noticed that he didn't seem comfortable with it. A bit like Brynjolf, he seemed more content in following than leading. It was, in its own way, sort of cute, really. The didn't speak much on the way out, Auriel more curious than anything else and Farkas quietly uncomfortable with taking the lead.

The Cairn seemed mostly undisturbed at first glance, but Auriel's second, longer look found signs of recent activity. Someone had been in here, and it hadn't been that long ago.

"Looks like someone's been diggin here, and recently," Farkas said, coming up behind her. "Tread lightly."

She glanced at him over her shoulder, then smirked a little wickedly.

"If you can keep up, I'll be impressed. Come on."

She didn't give him time to ask, simply slipping into her most silent and stealthy manners as she made her way through. She heard him mutter under his breath, and stifled a snicker. He didn't follow in her footsteps, no, but neither did she manage to lose him, which was impressive in and of itself.

The draugr were, as always, not terribly friendly, but Auriel's magic and Farkas' blade took care of them.

"Vilkas says magic's not very honorable," Farkas said as they caught their breath.

"Your brother doesn't know everything," Auriel retorted. "Magic is in my blood, and it'll take a greater power than him to make me give it up. Besides which, magic has its uses."

"I'm just sayin, Vilkas might complain about it," he said after a minute.

"Well, he can complain all he'd like," she snorted a little. "I will always use magic when the situation presents itself."

He fell silent, and she moved ahead, irritated by his comment.

They arrived at a more open room, and Auriel glanced around with a faint frown; the way out was obviously blocked by a portcullis, but she could see no release trigger. Farkas caught her wrist after a moment, and she turned in surprise.

"If magic is your weapon, then magic is honorable," he said simply.

She blinked, then smiled faintly.

"Yours is a simple nature at times, Far," she said in amusement. "I'll see if I can't find the lever."

He nodded, letting her hand go, and she moved off to search a small alcove. The switch was there all right... but while it opened the gate out, it locked her in. She startled a little, attempting to yank the lever back, but it had stuck fast.

Farkas walked over, and shook his head a little.

"Are you all right?"

"...I will be happier if you can get me out of here," she muttered.

"No worries. Sit tight, I'll find the release."

She heard it then, a commotion in the corridor beyond. Farkas heard it too, tensing as he turned away from the portcullis that now held her prisoner. Five people ran out, weapons drawn. Auriel frowned at them; their blades looked almost like they were made of pure silver... but that was nonsense. Right?

"We knew you'd be coming," one sneered. "Your mistake, Companion."

"Now it's time to die, dog!" cried another.

"Which one is that?" the third asked.

"It doesn't matter. They all need to die!"

Farkas slowly backed up, his greatsword held carefully in his hands. Auriel's hands flickered with fire and she slid them into the gaps between bars. She couldn't aim terribly well like this, but she wouldn't let them kill Farkas without trying to stop it.

"Killing you will make for an excellent story," the third one smirked.

"None of you will be alive to tell it," Farkas snarled.

He tossed his blade aside, and Auriel watched in shock as a change rippled over him. Already taller than her, he gained a dark, dense, furry coat as he expanded even farther. The transformation seemed to absorb his armor, and Auriel could only stare in awe, and a little bit of fear as Farkas became a werewolf. Fur, tail, muzzle, claws, and silver eyes.

She watched in blank shock as he tore the five to shreds, then ran off out the door. She yelped in surprise and pain as the gate lifted, hastily yanking her arms back out of the bars, though she didn't lower them. If Farkas had lost himself to the madness of the beastblood, she preferred to be prepared, and not devoured.

Sheepishly he reentered the room as himself, and she let out a slow breath.

"I hope I didn't scare ya," he said, scratching his head slightly.

"What in the name of the Divines was that?" Auriel demanded.

"It's a blessing given to some of us," he admitted. "We can be like wild beasts. Fearsome."

"...so, the idea is to make me a werewolf?"

"Oh no, only the Circle has the beastblood," he said quickly. "You just have to prove your honor to be a Companion. 'Eyes on the prey, not the horizon.'"

"...you say that like it's so simple," she sighed. "I have to keep my eyes on the horizon. I doubt I'd survive very long if I didn't. Who else has the blood then?"

"Well..." he hesitated, then sighed. "Vilkas, Aela, Skjor, me, and Kodlak. But that's all. Just the Circle. Really."

She sighed a little.

"I suppose that's better than finding out you're all werewolves and likely to eat me at a moment's notice."

"Oh, we'd never eat you!" the haste with which it was delivered made her lips quirk slightly. "We only eat our enemies, like these guys, the Silver Hand. Or at least, I've heard Aela and Skjor do, and-"

"Far. It was a joke. Calm down. Let's go."

He subsided with a sheepish expression, and obediently followed after her once he'd retrieved his sword.

The tomb was rife with a mix of Silver Hand and draugr, making it a difficult path for both of them. The silver blades actually hurt more than she expected, but fortunately that particular injury was only a mild gash. He'd been trying to take her arm off, so she was glad to get away with it. Farkas seemed to take almost territorial exception to her being injured, and while he didn't transform again, his greatsword was sharp, and he was very strong.

Of course, the Hand and the draugr clashed as well, and when that happened, Auriel was content to sit back, watch, and wait. Farkas didn't quite get it, but he followed her lead, and they managed to get through with each others' help. They were injured, naturally, but they were not dead, and she had been surprised by how gentle his touch was when binding injuries. She had expected he wouldn't be able to mind his own strength, but instead she found she had to convince him to tie the bandages tight enough to stem the bleeding.

"You're a powerhouse, but your skill at stealth is terrible," she muttered.

"Well, Vilkas doesn't hold much with sneaking either," he admitted with a wince as she applied some salve to a burn.

"And you?"

"...what about me?"

"If you hadn't noticed, my repertoire of moves is stealth oriented. I'm the epitome of someone who hides in the shadows and waits for the enemy to weaken before they die," she pointed out. "I don't have great physical strength, I have magical strength and mental prowess."

"Well, you are built kind of... dainty..."

"If that's a kind way of saying I'm small and slender for an Altmer, believe me, I am aware," Auriel said dryly.

"I think you're a fine Companion," Farkas said after a minute. "No matter how your fight. You're honorable enough to me."

Auriel blinked at him for a moment, then abruptly turned away, embarrassed by the praise. Honorable. He thought her honorable? Her mouth turned up in a cynical smirk. Of course he did. He didn't know that she was just as bad as any Thalmor. And he didn't need to know either.

The rest of the journey through the cairn, including the spiders, was done in a tense sort of silence. Auriel could tell that Farkas wondered what he'd said wrong, but didn't have the heart to tell him that he saw an idealized version of who she was. And if she kept her distance, he wouldn't see the real thing.

He didn't need to see that. No one did.

For a group of werewolf hunters, Auriel found that they weren't terribly smart. Of course, most of them were Nord, so likely the idea of taking the treasures of the tomb with didn't occur to them, but it felt more like they had been fools than anything else. Granted they would have died with or without the treasure, but Auriel found herself annoyed at their lack of foresight. Why leave such things lying around when the money could be put to such other useful things? She would never understand Nords...

The last room, with the fragment in it, held a wordwall as well. A word that Auriel hadn't learned, but wanted too. She let the word slide through her gleefully, feeling the heat of flames tickle at the back of her throat. Now she could Shout fire too.

It came in handy almost immediately, as once the fragment was picked up, draugr came crawling out of their coffins to attack. The word, she discovered with great delight, was Yol, and it turned them into ashes and dust in a highly satisfying manner.

"What was that?" Farkas asked, breaking the strained silence at last.

"...Oh..." Auriel blinked, then shrugged a little. "Apparently I'm the dragonborn."

"'Apparently'?"

"Well, I haven't gone to the Graybeards yet, so who's to say?" she asked, her voice a shade too innocent; her mood had been entirely restored by that round of fire. "I just use the power that comes to hand."

He stared at her for a moment, and she smiled her best sweetly innocent smile. Watching him blush was a bit of vindication as well.

"C'mon. Let's get back to Jorrvaskr before they think we're both dead," she suggested.

"Yeah..."

The walk back was far more cheery and less in the way of tense. Auriel didn't quite skip, but her steps were light; she was going to enjoy this new Thu'um.

"Everyone should be gathered in the training yard," Farkas said, once they'd reached Whiterun. "Come on. We can make it real now."

"I'm coming, I'm coming..."

The yard was indeed filled with the members of the Companions Auriel now knew to identify as 'the Circle'. Vilkas gave her a suspicious, unfriendly look, but the rest seemed pleased that the pair was back. Farkas stepped into a spot that would complete a half-circle, and Auriel moved to the middle.

"Brothers and sisters of the Circle, today we welcome a new soul into our mortal fold," Kodlak intoned. "This woman has endured, has challenged, and has shown her valor. Who will speak for her?"

"I stand witness to the courage of the soul before us," Farkas replied solemnly.

"Would you raise your shield in her defense?" Kodlak asked.

"I would stand at her back, that the world might never overtake us."

"And would you raise your sword in her honor?" the old man continued.

"It stands ready to meet the blood of her foes!"

"And would you raise a mug in her name?"

"I would lead the song of triumph as our mead hall reveled in her stories," he replied with a slight grin.

"...only if you learn how to carry a tune in something other than a bucket," Auriel murmured, a faint smile on her own face in reply.

His grin turned sheepish, and she stifled a giggle.

"Then the judgment of this Circle is complete," Kodlak nodded a little. "Her heart beats with the fury and courage that have united the Companions since the days of the distant green summers. Let it beat with ours, that the mountains may echo, and our enemies tremble at the call."

"It shall be so," the other four intoned.

Aela and Farkas both looked pleased. Vilkas less so. Skjor's expression was neutral, and she had the distinct feeling that he hadn't yet made up his mind about her. The Circle scattered, but Kodlak stepped up to speak with her.

"Well, now you're one of us. It was a trifle early, but I think you'll do well," he said, a friendly expression crossing his face. "Did anything special happen while hunting this shard?"

"...yes, actually. Farkas told me about you lot being werewolves."

He sighed, shaking his head a little.

"I see you've been allowed to know some secrets before your appointed time... I shall have to speak with that boy."

"No, it's not his fault. We were beset by the Silver Hand, and it was five on one, with me stuck out of reach." She paused, then cocked her head a little. "Though I suppose he did want to tell me..."

"He makes no secret of his attraction to you, but that is not currently the issue at hand. I suppose it matters not. Yes, the members of the Circle share in the blood of the beast. Some take to it more than others."

"Do you?"

"I grow old," he admitted with a faint chuckle. "My mind turns towards the horizon. To Sovngarde. I worry that Shor won't call an animal to glory as he would a true Nord warrior... Living as beasts draws our souls closer to the Daedric Lord Hircine. Some may prefer an eternity in his hunting grounds, but I crave the fellowship of Sovngarde."

"...Lycanthropy is a disease," she said slowly. "Much like vampirism. There is likely to be a cure, if we look long enough."

"It's no easy matter," he sighed. Then patted her shoulder lightly, a fond smile crossing his face. "But you don't need to share the worries of an old warrior. Today is to rejoice in your bravery! Don't forget to speak to Eorlund if you want a better weapon, though, from what Farkas tells me, you are a weapon on your own."

Auriel smiled her best disarming smile, and spread her hands innocently.

"I use the tools laid before me, and if it comes naturally, all the better. Out of curiosity, now what?"

"Why, keep looking for work, of course. Vilkas may not be terribly fond of you, but the lad is jealous, I think, of the attention his brother gives to you."

"And because I gave him that black eye."

Kodlak chuckled, and nodded.

"And because of that. He is a hot-headed youngster, but he should have some decent work for you. Or any other member of the Circle. You have made quite an impression on all of us. I look forward to seeing what else you'll accomplish."

There wasn't a response to that which didn't sound like boasting, so Auriel allowed a faint smile to cross her face, bowed to the old man, and moved off to see who might have some work for her to take care of.