They stayed like that for a while, Wulf nodding off again only to wake up shortly after, restless. He drank more water, this time without Vilkas' help as his hand was steadier already, and inspected his former wounds closely, moving his shoulder and running his fingers lightly over scar tissue and stitches. They would have to pull those soon, Vilkas noticed.
"How long have I been here?", Wulfryk asked suddenly, ripping the Companion out of his thoughts. His voice was hoarse and raw, the words little more than a whisper, but they felt like a blessing after the silence of the past days.
"Three days in total", Vilkas answered. "You have arrived on Loredas and now it is Tirdas."
Wulf's head fell back and he let out a pent up breath, but Vilkas could not discern whether it was relief that coursed through his friend or tiredness, or whether he was just deep in thought. Whatever the reason, he did not want the silence to linger and promptly enquired "How are you feeling?"
"Hungry." Wulf chuckled, not wasting any time with his reply. "But better than I did when I arrived, thank you."
There was the opening Vilkas had been waiting, nay, hoping for. Feeling his way, he carefully asked "How much do you remember?"
"You mean besides being shouted at and choked?" Wulf turned around to cast the Companion a filthy glare, letting him know that he had neither forgotten nor forgiven Vilkas for his transgression. His tone was decidedly cooler now than it had been a few minutes ago.
Damn, but the whelp was probably going to be insufferable from now on – as if he hadn't been before. It was a good thing that he was bedridden for the moment and that Vilkas had no intention of repeating his past mistakes. "Why don't I get you something to eat?", the Companion said, a statement rather than a question. He disentangled himself from Wulf and got up, glad that he could escape the closeness that he had craved mere moments ago. "I'm sure Tilma has something ready, a stew maybe."
He had waited three days to get answers; he could wait another ten minutes. And if a full belly made his friend more cooperative, it would be all the better. Vilkas left the room without a backwards glance and thus he missed how Wulf's customary grin that had appeared as soon as the Companion had offered to fetch food for the sick man, grew brittle and vanished.
xxxx
He had made it. It was the thought that had coursed through Wulfryk's mind when he had opened his eyes to behold a familiar face, albeit in an unfamiliar room. He knew that he had to be in Jorrvaskr and after some thought he remembered that there were a couple of rooms in the mead hall's left wing, though he had not set foot in any of them before.
His initial feeling of relief was quickly replaced by one of growing unease and trepidation. Sending Vilkas away had been easy in spite of the fact that after days of trying to outrun death Wulf longed for company. When through his blurring vision he had made out the form of the big warrior sitting in front of the mead hall, he knew that he had done his part. Somebody else would take it from here, for a while, although he had not anticipated ending up against the wall – again.
It hadn't been the first time Wulf had been roughed up, not even by the Companion, but the circumstances certainly were unique. Now he dreaded the confrontation that was inevitable. Vilkas would not take the news of his brother's capture well and that was putting it mildly. He'd probably completely lose it, either to worry or much more likely, to anger.
And when he did, Wulfryk had no intention of dealing with the man all by himself. It might prove hazardous to his already tattered health.
Getting out of bed had never been one of Wulf's strengths and today it proved more challenging than ever, but somehow he made it the whole two steps to Vilkas' armchair without falling flat on his face. A small victory and a great achievement considering the state he had been in. The action left him dizzy and panting for breath. Tiredness crashed over the Nord and he would have been happy to go to sleep right there, especially since his entire body ached, like he had gone through hours of rigorous training instead of lying in a soft bed.
There were few instances that Wulf could recall when he had been bedridden, and it was no more pleasant now than it had been before. Every instinct screamed at him to get up and move even though he knew he wouldn't make it far. But the same intuition that was nagging him now had made him endure his injury, had kept him going way past what he had thought possible.
Wulf shivered at the memory or maybe it was the chilly morning air that raised goosebumps on his skin and he leaned forward and snagged the blanket from the bed along with a fur to cover himself. By now his breathing had almost returned to normal and spots no longer swam before his eyes. He still felt weak though, even more so than when he still had been injured.
Thankfully, Vilkas had left the door open a crack when he had departed and Wulf could hear voices from the main hall. If he wasn't up to walking, they would have to come to him, simple as that. Hoping that by now the big warrior was downstairs and out of hearing, he took a deep breath and bellowed "AELA!"
It was neither as loud or strong as he had hoped and the shouting left his throat sore and burning, but the voices had gone quiet, only to be replaced by rapidly approaching footsteps. It wasn't Aela who stuck her head through the door, but Ria, who let out a happy squeal when she saw that her friend was conscious, crossed over to where Wulf was sitting and proceeded to hug the life out of the Nord.
While he didn't mind being pampered, Wulf was nonetheless thankful when Athis pulled her off, wryly telling her to "Let him breathe."
Ria playfully aimed a swat at the Dark Elf that he evaded with grace and a broad smile which had the Imperial huffing in mock annoyance. Instead of pursuing their pretended quarrel she came to kneel next to Wulfryk and began to fuss over him, asking at least a dozen times how he was feeling and whether he needed anything. It was heart warming to know that they had missed him when he had been gone and how worried his fellow Companions had been, although Wulf caught Athis' stifled chuckles whenever Ria got particularly dramatic.
"I'm fine", Wulf assured the Imperial, repeating the words automatically. He wasn't, but he would be. Besides, that was not important right now.
"Look, Ria", he finally interrupted the girl mid-sentence. "I really need to talk to Aela. Is she here?"
Ria looked taken aback for a split second before she replied "Aela's outside, training with Torvar and Njada."
"Could you get her?", Wulf asked, anxious for her to be gone. Things would be easier if he could walk, but he didn't trust his legs yet.
The Imperial woman winced in reply. "She won't be happy with the interruption", she sighed. "You know, things have been quite stressful here while you were away. Everybody seems to be on edge. And now you want me gone", she scolded and received a wounded look in return.
"You know you are my favourite Companion and I would love nothing more than to spend time with you, but this really is important."
"You're such a liar, Wulf", Ria said with a sweet smile and mussed his dark hair. "I'll get Aela", she said and stood up "But only because it's you."
"Thank you", Wulf breathed in relief, but she had already left.
Athis remained and for a while nobody spoke until out of the blue the Dark Elf enquired "How did your mission go? Do you have the fragment of Wuuthrad?"
Damn, but he had not thought about the blasted axe until now. "Not with me", Wulf lied promptly.
His curt answer did not disencourage Athis from asking further questions. Quite the opposite. "Does Farkas have it with him?", the Dark Elf wanted to know next.
Wulfryk had no idea how much the Dunmer really knew about the guild that he was a member of. Out of all the 'whelps' Athis struck Wulf as the most perceptive one. It was probably safe to assume that Torvar and Ria were clueless and Njada had her head stuck so far up her ass, she was unlikely to notice anything.
But the Elf was a wildcard. With the longevity of the Mer he probably had more experience than even Kodlak, in spite of him looking like he was in his thirties. Wulf didn't know how old Athis really was, the Dunmer had evaded all questions concerning his past and age as skilfully as he had Ria's blow, and usually with a witty remark on top.
Thankfully, Wulf was saved from thinking up an answer when the door opened once more and Aela strode in.
Her eyes widened when she saw her friend was awake and well, but all traces of surprise vanished from her face when she noticed Athis standing next to the Nord.
"What are you waiting for, an invitation?", the Huntress barked. "Ria's already back in the ring and I want to see some improvement on both your footwork!"
The last thing Wulf saw of the Dark Elf was his shocked countenance that quickly vanished as he fled his shield-sister's wrath.
Wulfryk's own eyebrows rose at her tone that brooked no argument. Now he knew what Ria had meant when she said that things were 'tense'. He also understood something that Farkas told him once, that Aela scared him sometimes. The Huntress really could be intimidating if she wanted to be. And now her full attention was on him. Maybe sending Vilkas away had been a mistake.
But when Aela walked over to Wulf, it was only to embrace him warmly and with more care than Ria. "Thank the Gods, you're awake", the Companion sighed. "Things have been crazy for the past days", she moaned. "Everybody's just stopped working and was hovering in your doorway and Vilkas has been downright going mental."
In spite of himself Wulf had to chuckle. "Did you miss me?", he asked cheekily.
"No", Aela sulked and rested her chin on the top of his head, her arms loosely wrapped around his neck.
"See?", Wulf asked her, smiling up at his friend. "I remember telling you once I'd grow on you."
"Like an ulcer."
Wulf's laugh was cut short when a sharp, piercing pain shot through his side that had him cursing a blue streak. Aela looked on in sympathy as he gently massaged his abdomen with a grimace and handed him a full cup from the nightstand. The water did not help ease the sting, but drinking gave Wulfryk some time to compose himself.
"You said you needed to talk to me", Aela said, all traces of humour gone now, and sat down on the bed.
Wulf nodded and without preamble he blurted out "We have a problem."
"It's about Farkas, isn't it?", Aela asked, burying her face in her hands.
"Yes", her shield-brother confirmed, quickly resuming. "This involves the whole Circle, but I thought I'd tell you first."
"Wulf –", Aela's voice wavered now "If something happened to him..." She didn't finish. She didn't have to.
"Yes. No. Let me explain. Farkas is alive", Wulf began and saw Aela slump in relief.
It was short-lived, because after his next sentence she was as pale as the sheets she sat upon.
"He's a prisoner of the Silver Hand."
xxxx
Vilkas took the stairs to the living quarters two at a time, already impatient to get back to Wulf and press some answers from the man. Ria and Athis cast curious glances towards the Companion when they saw him hurry through the main room, but neither the Imperial woman nor the Dunmer approached him with questions. He had effectively scared off his fellow Companions with his foul mood of the days past. Vilkas felt a slight pang of guilt that he quickly repressed. He knew that he owed his shield-siblings an apology, but there would be a time for reconciliation when his world wasn't turned upside-down.
Tilma answered the door with a smile and warm words "Hullo, dear. Come in."
Vilkas guessed he would always be 'dear' to the old woman who had half-raised him. He snorted at the endearment. There were worse, as he had found out over the past months.
The old woman had probably recognised his pattern of knocking, the Companion thought and stepped into the room. Looking over the furniture and decorations that had not changed since he had been a boy, Vilkas cleared his throat and enquired loudly enough for the elderly lady to hear. "I was wondering if you had something to eat ready. A stew."
"Hungry, are you?", Tilma chuckled. "I remember a time when all you and your brother did was eat."
Vilkas inclined his head, not wanting to be rude, but neither was he in a mood for idle chatter or recounting of times past. "It's not for me", he clarified briefly "It's for Wulf."
"Ah! Your friend is awake, then." Tilma nodded her head without waiting for an answer and began to bustle around, talking to either herself or the Companion.
Vilkas waited impatiently until she was done, tapping his foot and quenching a heavy sigh every time the old woman walked past him until she was finally done and pointed the warrior to a fireplace in the back.
"I have just made a cauldron of barley broth that I wanted to serve with dinner", Tilma said, waving her hand at a huge kettle that hung above the fire. "Take it upstairs for me, would you? Your friend can have some straight away."
You could always rely on the old woman to have food ready.
Vilkas could not suppress a small smile. "Thank you, Tilma."
Tilma skittered around the Companion as he carried the cauldron through the room. "Be careful on those steps, dear. The broth is really hot", she warned him one last time, holding the door open for him.
Vilkas grunted in response and only narrowly avoided a collision with Kodlak in the corridor.
"Harbinger", Vilkas courteously acknowledged Kodlak's presence.
"Vilkas. Good, I have been looking for you."
"I'm...kind of...busy...right now", Vilkas puffed between stairs as he lugged the full and quite heavy kettle upstairs and into the main room. For all the respect he harboured for the old warrior, now was not the time he wanted to trade words.
"Cooking?", Kodlak asked him with a wink.
The well meant jab escaped Vilkas' understanding of humour. "Wulf's awake", he answered curtly.
"Is he now?", Kodlak sighed. The Harbinger sounded tired when he proclaimed that "This is good news indeed. In fact, I've wanted to talk to you about him."
Why did everybody bother him now? Vilkas' grunt was noncommittal, his thoughts on not spilling the hot food. He reached the great dining table without incident and put down his burden with a loud thud, making the liquid slosh and some of it run down the brim. Ria and Athis were gone, but he could hear the clash of weapons from outside. When Vilkas poured soup in one bowl, another was held up for him to fill.
"I doubt he'll answer any questions while eating", Kodlak reasonably observed before Vilkas could say anything "And it won't take long."
"Fine!", the Companion growled in frustration. He had never refused his Harbinger before; he wasn't going to start now. But he was close.
"Something smells delicious." Aela's red head appeared next to Vilkas' shoulder. The Huntress had sneaked upon the two men unnoticed and now she snatched both full bowls from her shield-brothers, grinned and innocently thanked them, then turned on the heel and marched back into Wulf's room which she had just come from. Kodlak sighed heavily when he saw his dinner disappear and Vilkas went to retrieve another bowl.
He kept Kodlak company during his meal, though he did not partake of it. He was reprimanded for it quickly enough by the old man sitting across from him. "You should eat."
"I'm not hungry", the Companion replied out of routine.
Kodlak just shook his head. "A warrior like you needs to keep up his strength. "
"Yes, Harbinger." He wasn't twelve anymore, but judging by both the old Companion's and Tilma's way of treating him he might as well be. He hadn't done anything strenuous the past days and his appetite was meagre. The constant fretting about his twin and his friend's condition didn't help, either. Vilkas cast a longing glance at the closed doors to Wulf's room, took a deep breath, let it out again and drummed his fingers on the table.
"I see you have taken quite a liking to our newest member." If Kodlak wanted to be subtle, he had just failed miserably.
Vilkas winced inwardly and shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. The Harbinger was one of the few people he usually liked talking to, whom he could entrust with his thoughts and worries. He knew that secrets were safe with the man who had all but raised him, but some things felt a little too personal for sharing.
"I like him", the Companion admitted grudgingly. "Which changes nothing about the fact that most of the time I want to hit him", he resumed with a grimace, trying to sidetrack the conversation.
Kodlak chuckled.
"I understand how hard this has been for you. I was there, in your spot, waiting for friends to wake up. Some never did", the old warrior told him, compassion evident in his voice alongside with what might have been regret.
Vilkas knew that Kodlak had many of those; he wasn't the only one who needed to unburden his heart from time to time. Today, it seemed the Harbinger had no desire to confide in him. Instead his voice took on a tone that had Vilkas slumping in his seat. Fighting had told him that he should always pose as small a target as possible, but it was too bad he couldn't make himself unseen entirely.
"But you have to understand that as the future Harbinger your primary concern must always be the Companions as a whole, not just one of your comrades. The warriors of Jorrvaskr have no leader", at this point Kodlak snorted derisively and resumed "That's what we like to tell ourselves. The whelps might still believe it, but I am older – and wiser – and I know better. You have seen what the past days were like...total chaos. Your shield-siblings rely on you, more than you realize. Aela and Skjor help, but they cannot replace you!"
"They are just upset because of Wulf", Vilkas mumbled.
Kodlak's eyes were drilling into the warrior's own. "Are they?", he asked in a low voice that was leaden with implications; his spoon had stopped mid-air. "Or are they merely worried because you are? The others will look to you for guidance, for support. If you cannot give it to them, how are they supposed to follow you when it counts the most?"
"I know that. I...", Vilkas swallowed before continuing "I think I needed a break." Gods, but he was tired of measuring up to other people's expectations.
Kodlak was shaking his head before Vilkas had finished talking. "You and I, we cannot afford such luxuries." He was right, of course. The Harbinger himself worked hard, spending his days doing research instead of celebrating his achievements and enjoying the comforts of old age and a family that took care of him.
"Let's take Lydia, for instance."
Vilkas managed not to groan – just. "What about Lydia?", he enquired with consternation, knowing that Kodlak was not done with him yet.
"When was the last time you talked to her?"
"I'm not sure." The Companion blinked. Come to think of it, the housecarl had not visited him recently. That certainly was strange, considering how often she had come by before Wulf had appeared on Jorrvaskr's doorstep more dead than alive. "I haven't seen her in a while."
"And why do you think that is?", Kodlak enquired.
"I don't know." And honestly, Vilkas didn't care.
Dissatisfied with the answer, the Harbinger refrained from showing his irritation. Patiently, he continued eating and after a short while he enquired "You worry about your brother, right?" Kodlak did not wait for Vilkas' answer and resumed immediately "Don't you think she worries about her Thane as well? And it's not only Lydia's profession in danger here, but her honour. Don't let others suffer through what you have to endure yourself. You know how painful it is."
"I meant to tell her." Vilkas knew he was being defensive now. Divines, but he hated to be lectured by the old man. At least nobody else was here to overhear their conversation.
"I kind of forgot."
Stating at the surface of the table spared him having to look up into his Harbingers piercing eyes.
He heard Kodlak's sigh. "If you want to know, an agreement has been struck between her, the Jarl and the Companions", the Harbinger explained.
"How do you know?", Vilkas asked, more because he knew that he should than out of curiosity.
"Because I was there to argue for the Companions' sake", Kodlak answered and his next words made the young Companion wince. "Lydia complained to Irileth who took the matter to the Jarl. To sum up what had been a very long and heated discussion; there will be an official ceremony after which Lydia will begin her service as housecarl. I will send a messenger to her to tell her to come by tomorrow morning. It's only fair that she gets to know her Thane."
In the silence that followed Vilkas was all too conscious of the fact that all Kodlak had done was actually his job.
"You cannot allow yourself to let go like this."
"Yes, Harbinger."
He knew that. He knew all that and yet all Vilkas wanted to do at times was to fall face first into his bed and not rise before the year was over. But he kept going. For the honour and good of the Companions and because he could not stand the thought of his Harbinger being disappointed in him.
"Ah. Don't worry about it now. You are still young, Vilkas." Kodlak did not miss the look his fellow Companion was giving him and with more force he added "Yes, you are. And it was not my intention to lecture you today. Nobody expects you to become a leader overnight." The Harbinger's hand came to rest atop Vilkas' shoulder, giving the younger man a light shake. "Don't let an old man's high expectations get to you, lad. You know I am proud of you. When I think back to when I was your age, I was lying around drunk in some hamlet in Hammerfell."
The two Companions shared a quiet laugh, even if Vilkas' own was a bit unsteady. Strangely, he was feeling better now. As always, Kodlak was right. The warrior had not been himself lately. He had needed a wake-up call, even though he hated to admit it. It was time for him to pull himself together. His brother was a capable warrior, one of Jorrvaskr's best and if his friend had woken up, it meant that he was out of the woods. Speaking of which...
"You said something about Wulf, earlier?", the Companion enquired after taking a steadying breath.
"Ah, yes. Now I almost forgot", the old warrior admitted with an awkward cough that had Vilkas grinning broadly. It made the harangue he had gotten earlier sting a great deal less.
It did not take long for Kodlak to recover his composure. "It seems that there is more to your friend than meets the eye", he hinted mysteriously.
Vilkas tilted his head to the side. His Harbinger's words brought to mind the first time he had seen Wulfryk leaning against the doorway and listening in on their talk. The distrust he had felt towards the brash stranger with a taunting smile and cold eyes who believed he could just walk in and join the Companions. After half a year of working and living with the man he no longer harboured any such suspicions, but he remembered them well. Skjor still did not trust their newest shield-brother, but Vilkas had had a change of heart after Wulf had saved his life, from a dragon no less, and had come close to losing his own in the process.
And it had nothing to do with the fact that they had slept with each other, or so the Companion told himself.
"What do you mean?", he asked and tried to ignore the unpleasant sensation in his stomach, the doubts he felt rising once more.
Kodlak did not answer straight away. He finished eating first, put down his spoon and pushed away the dishes, turning his full attention back to Vilkas. "There is a reason behind his swift promotion to Thane", he answered thoughtfully. "Do you know why he was given this title?", he next asked the younger Companion without further explaining.
"Lydia said he had killed a dragon when the watchtower had been attacked." It was hard to believe, but Vilkas had seen Wulf face one of the giant lizards before. He frowned, because Kodlak was still looking at him with expectation and he knew that he was missing something. Something crucial, judging by the look.
"Vilkas." The word was drawn out with amusement. "My eyesight might be weak in my old age, but my ears are still excellent. We all heard it. You and me and the entire city."
It was time for Vilkas to shake his head, because what Kodlak was hinting at was, simply said, impossible. He could not, would not believe it.
"The call of the Greybeards."
"No. It can't be true."
Because admitting that it was would mean acknowledging that Wulf had played them all for fools. Dragonborn. Vilkas should have made the connection earlier, when Lydia had told him of the attack on the Western Watchtower. Had it not been him arguing with his brother that only the fabled Dragonborn had the power to kill those damned lizards? That evening in the Bannered Mare seemed like a lifetime ago, so much had happened in the meantime, but the Companion remembered that particular conversation as if it happened yesterday.
"The Jarl believes it to be true", the Harbinger resumed and Vilkas wondered whether the kindness in his voice might actually be pity.
Directed at him, because there was nobody else here and because it had been him falling to pieces over Wulf's sickbed. And it was too late to say that it was all because of his brother.
"Your friend might be Dragonborn, but until the Greybeards confirm it this is a strict secret", Kodlak added, almost as if in afterthought. He did not speak again.
"I understand." Although Vilkas did not, not really. Why had Kodlak told him all this if he insisted that it was a secret? Did that mean that his shield-siblings were to be kept in the dark? Probably so.
Was this just a piece of information important enough that the future Harbinger should know it or was it to keep him from falling for the man who always had a smile and a lie down pat?
A bit late for that one.
His Harbinger's words kept playing over and over in his mind, after their conversation had come to a rather abrupt end. The two Companions sat in uncomfortable silence, each lost in his own thoughts until a shout made them both jump.
"Kodlak, would you join us for a minute?", Aela called from across the room. "You too, Vilkas", she added after a moment's thought.
Vilkas rose mechanically and held out his hand to steady the old man when he got up. It had become a habit and its very necessity showed how frail this once mighty warrior had become, how bad his shape really was. It was a topic they all tiptoed around, one that even Vilkas' thoughts shied away from.
He remembered Askar, had a few hazy memories of the former Harbinger and of the day all Companions had gathered beside the Skyforge and lit a huge bonfire. A funeral pyre, though he learned only after the ceremony why on this day even battle-hardened warriors shed tears without shame. Too young to be involved in Jorrvaskr's inner workings, their leader's demise had been no concern of the boy.
The Companions without Kodlak though...Vilkas couldn't imagine how they would go on. Somehow, they would. And it would be him following in Kodlak's footsteps, a task that most of the time he could talk himself into believing that he was worthy of it.
On days like today though, the Companion was plagued by doubts and they were not assuaged in the least when he entered Wulf's room, following Aela's call. The Huntress looked nervous, wringing her hands. Her red hair was a mess, as if she had run her hands through it many times without a care for the outcome.
Wulfryk was now sitting in the spot that Vilkas himself had occupied in the days past and he looked up when the Companion entered.
Something in his gaze made the warrior falter briefly in his stride.
It was distant, guarded and calculating.
It made Vilkas wonder whether that had ever changed or if it had just been him seeing the man in a different light, a friendly, warm glow of affection that could not persist in the harsh light of reality. Because even after all this time that Wulf had spent with the Companions and in spite of all his wild stories they knew next to nothing about him. He was a stranger.
But come to think of it, so was Athis. And Njada. They had joined the Companions to make a new future for themselves, leaving their old lives behind. Nobody had dug around in their past.
Vilkas turned back to the woman standing before him. It was easier to face his shield-sister. "You called?", he asked.
"Vilkas, you might want to sit down", Aela answered, worrying her lower lip with her teeth.
Fear pooled into Vilkas' stomach like lead, weighing him down. Those words. Wulf's expression. They meant bad news. "What's going on?" His voice wavered more than he would have liked to admit.
Hands pushed him down on the bed and the Companion's knees gave way. "Sit."
"Aela." A breathless whisper, because all air was gone from Vilkas' lungs. He was begging her with his eyes. Imploring her not to say what he knew was coming, what he dreaded every time he took leave from his brother. The room was too small suddenly, too stifling, too hot. And yet he felt cold, had to clench his jaw to prevent his teeth from chattering.
The tang of dismay hung in the air, so thick it left a bitter taste on his tongue. It made him want to throw up.
Aela wanted to reach out towards her shield-brother, but knowing him he would not suffer the placating touch. So she clenched her fists and spreading her arms she burst out "We need to rescue Farkas." She looked over at Wulf, but he had his face buried in his hand and was busy massaging his eyes.
"Rescue him?" The words rang in the silence of the room. Outside, a thrush had begun to sing. Vilkas thought it was strange that he should be more aware of its chirping than he was of his closest surroundings. At least rescue meant that Farkas was alive. He was alive. The world stopped spinning.
"Who?" Now that the fear was abating, anger began to build up.
"Who took my brother!?", Vilkas growled, staring at both his shield-siblings, both of whom would not meet his eyes.
"The Silver Hand." Aela's words were like a slap to the face, sending his last shreds of hopes crashing right back to the ground.
"The Silver Hand does not take prisoners."
"They did this time." Wulf had apparently decided to join the conversation and though he now steadily held his fellow Companion's gaze, both his face and tone lacked emotions.
Something about his calm, uncaring manner snapped Vilkas out of his shocked state. As if it wasn't his closest friend who was held prisoner, but some foreign person.
"You!", the Companion snarled. "How could you let this happen!?" By the time he finished, he was shouting.
"I tried to free him", Wulf replied, still perfectly composed. "It did not go well for me, but Farkas is fine."
"FINE!? DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT THEY WILL DO TO HIM!?" Somebody was holding him back, keeping him from going after the whelp.
Wulf should be glad that Aela and Kodlak were here to keep him back, because Vilkas had every intention of ripping the whelp apart for deserting a shield-brother, his twin. The other Nord made no move to defend himself, much like on the first day they had met, when Vilkas had cornered him in the corridor.
"Yes." There was a distinct malicious undertone to the single word to accompany the spark of fury in Wulf's eyes. "If 'The Skinner' is a clue."
And here Vilkas had thought his shield-siblings wanted to protect Wulf from him. It had not occurred to the Companion that it might be the other way around. That he would be the one who needed their support.
The strength of anger had left him as quickly as it had come. "Please tell me he doesn't have my brother."
"Not yet." Now that he was no longer being attacked Wulf settled for a sullen grumble. "That's why we need to save him. And it's 'she', by the way. Krev's a woman."
The Companion let himself sink back onto the bed, rubbing his temples rather forcefully. He felt like he'd been put through the meat grinder.
"Where -?", Vilkas swallowed, coughed and began again "Where do we even begin?"
"I know where they are headed", Wulf answered. "A castle in the Eastmarch. Gallow's Rock, if that's any help. That's where they're taking Farkas. And unless their horse grew wings they' won't get there anytime soon."
"Which gives us time to come up with a plan", Aela spoke up once more.
"How much time do we have exactly before they reach Gallow's Rock?", Vilkas enquired looking around. "Wulf?"
"Considering that you have to get there as well? Four days, maybe." It was a generous assessment.
The Companion nodded. He was staring at the floor between his feet. It was dirty. He could feet the gazes of the people in the room, waiting for him to do or say something. This was what Kodlak had been talking about, was it not? He had to pull himself together. For his brother's sake he had to remain strong and lead the Companions.
Vilkas looked up and met the Harbinger's eyes. Kodlak nodded his head, the tiniest fraction of a movement, but it was enough to let him know that he was not alone in this. They would talk again, soon.
"Aela, is Skjor here?" Vilkas asked with an effort to keep his voice level.
"Yes, he is downstairs, sleeping." There was the slightest note of irritation in the Huntresses voice. Skjor had been working hard with Farkas gone and Vilkas refusing to leave Wulf's bedside. Her lover was weary and he needed his much deserved rest.
"Wake him up, please", Vilkas ordered. "I want him to be present when we discuss our tactics." They would need Skjor if they were to attack the headquarters of the Silver Hand. "We will meet here in an hour. I suggest you pack, Aela." With those words he got up.
"Now if you'll excuse me for a moment...", the warrior said and left the room.
Kodlak, who had not uttered a single word since entering looked like he had aged a decade in the past five minutes. He followed Vilkas out of the room, silently closing the door behind him.
"I'm glad that's over", Aela sighed heavily and sunk down on Wulf's bed. She looked as exhausted as Wulf was feeling.
Wulfryk grimaced in agreement. "He took it rather well, don't you think?"
"Better than I thought he would", the Huntress replied thoughtfully.
They sat in silence and without moving until Wulf leaned sideways, lifted his bowl from the floor and held it out to his friend. "Get me some more broth?"
xxxx
An hour later Vilkas' sword had a new edge.
The Companion was packed and ready by the time he returned to Wulf's – Brill's – room that was. Wulfryk was lying in bed once more; he had fallen asleep while Kodlak sat in the corner and Aela was busy fletching arrows. There was a backpack lying at her feet.
Skjor entered several minutes later and the first thing he did before he took a seat as well was to lean his pack against the wall.
As much as Kodlak surely wanted to join them, he was not physically able to fight anymore. Besides, they would need somebody to remain in Jorrvaskr and keep the place running and the whelps busy. Wulf was still too weak and that left Vilkas, Skjor and Aela. Three warriors to take on the entire Silver Hand. It was too darned close to suicide for his liking.
If he had to though, Vilkas would have tried to take them down by himself. He was very glad that he did not have to resort to such desperate measures. That he had his shield-siblings at his back.
They might argue a lot in their free time and fight amongst each other, but when one member of the family was threatened, the warriors of Jorrvaskr acted in unison and without hesitation. It gave Vilkas hope to see his shield-siblings ready and eager to rescue his brother. Only together did they stand a chance against the enemy.
They needed a plan and a good one if they wanted to survive this one mission.
And if any of the Silver Hand bastards laid a finger on his twin, Vilkas would repay them a thousandfold for it.
He only wished it would never come this far.
The idleness was getting to the Companion, the knowledge that with every minute his brother was brought closer to the headquarters of the enemy. Without proper preparation though, their chances of success were slim.
Aela gently shook Wulf awake once they were complete and he recounted everything that would help them in their mission, concentrating on the number of warriors, their route and destination. He deliberately skipped most of what had happened in Dustman's Cairn, Vilkas noticed but let it go, as it would not be of any help to them anyway.
When his friend was done, a heavy silence descended over their small gathering. It did not last long, though, because an enraged Skjor broke it, saying "You failed to protect your shield-brother?"
An accusation, not a question.
"Oh, I'm very sorry", Wulf snapped back. "That I did not die pointlessly in a hopeless fight where I was outnumbered twenty to one." The venom in his voice actually made everybody close to him lean back. "I'm sorry I did not take the secret of Farkas' whereabouts to the grave and instead decided to return to his friends who actually have a chance to get him out alive."
Skjor looked somewhat taken aback, but the spiteful reply did not deter him from glowering darkly at the other Nord. If he wanted to argue, he had certainly come to the right man.
"Wait", Aela interrupted before a fight could break out. She turned to Wulf who was currently holding a staring contest with Skjor. "You said there were eleven warriors with Farkas, not twenty."
Wulf's smile could have been friendly had his eyes not held all the warmth of a mountain glacier. "Who do you think got rid of the other half?", he enquired conversationally.
"What about the piece of Wuuthrad?", Skjor retorted heatedly, ignoring Aela's attempts at making peace. "It was your trial to retrieve it. Do you have it?"
Vilkas shared a look of surprise with the Huntress that let the Companion know that he was not the only one who had forgotten about Ysgramor's axe.
However, Wulf seemed to have expected that particular question, because he was quick to reply "There was never any piece there."
"What do you mean it wasn't there?"
"I mean", the Nord explained, "That Dustman's Cairn was a setup. A trap. That helpful scholar who told you about it was either an agent or a pawn of the Silver Hand. You should check your sources more carefully, next time."
He was onto something there, Vilkas had to admit, though he did not say so. The Silver Hand had grown bold to pull off such a ruse. They would have to teach them to fear the Companions.
That the warriors of Jorrvaskr would not be trifled with.
"So what are we going to do?" Aela had taken over the role of the voice of reason in this meeting.
"It's best we surprise them on the road." Wulf handed his friend a map that Vilkas recognised to be Kodlak's. "I've drawn in Gallow's Rock, as you asked me. The dotted line is the one the Silver Hand intends to follow from what I've overheard."
Vilkas found that he was nodding along when suddenly he realized what the other man had just said. We? Indeed, there was a small pack lying next to the bed that he had overlooked earlier.
'Oh no, he wasn't', Vilkas thought. The three other Companions had bent over the map and did not pay him any heed while they were animatedly discussing the lay of the land.
"I just thought about something. Wulf, could we talk for one minute?", Vilkas asked and inclined his head towards the door.
The look he received contained a mixture of curiosity and distrust, but Wulfryk got up slowly, and with more difficulty than even the old Harbinger, and followed the Companion.
They were out of the room and hopefully out of hearing as well when Vilkas rounded on Wulf, who had leaned against the wall. "What in Oblivion do you think you are doing!?", he hissed.
Wulf's answer was to cross his arms in a look of stubborn defiance. "I have a few days until we catch up to the Silver Hand", he said. "I'll drown myself in potions underway, if I have to."
The Companion snorted in disbelief. "You can't fight!", he half-laughed, half-shouted. "Look at yourself, you can barely walk!"
"I've spent four days with an arrow stuck in my guts, Vilkas I didn't eat, I barely drank. I'd been puking blood by the second day and I still tracked down your brother and dragged my arse back to Whiterun." Wulf's voice dropped to almost a whisper and the Companion knew that he was livid when he said "Don't you presume to tell me what I can and can't do."
'Damn his pride', Vilkas thought. But then it was said to be a trait of the Nords. This time though he knew he was doing the right thing. He knew how Aela and Skjor fought and he could not take somebody with them who was not a member of the Circle. It was as simple as that. He could not allow Wulf to join them, not because he did not believe him to be capable enough, but because he had to protect the Companions.
"Wulfryk, you're not coming with us", he commanded.
The warrior snorted, he had never been one to give up easily. "How many people do you have with you who know restoration magic if one of you gets hurt?", he asked. "Who can distract the Silver Hand with some fire and explosions? Who can jiggle a closed lock, hm?"
All of them were reasonable questions. Also, they did not matter one bit, because Vilkas could not take the other man with him. It wasn't his bloody choice!
"Yes, you are many things. I know that." He sounded bitter, he knew. And gods, was he tired of arguing; it sapped his strength more than any armed conflict. "I wonder what else you can do. Who are you, Wulf?"
"What are you talking about?" The Nord's eyes narrowed in suspicion and he struggled to stand a little straighter.
"Your little secret." Did Vilkas have to spell it out for him? "I'll give you a hint", he bit out instead, feeling the anger boil up, the sting of betrayal. "It has something to do with you being Dragonborn. Why are you even here?"
"Secret?" The outrage in the other man's voice was evident. "You're one to talk about secrets, you bloody hypocrite!", he shouted. "I know what your brother is! What you are! I know why the Silver Hand hunts you, Companion!" Wulf spat the last word like a curse.
Vilkas had expected a struggle, even a verbal sparring, but this left him standing rooted to the ground, speechless. He was shaking, in fury or shock, he could not tell himself which.
The ugly truth that was the Companions' most closely guarded secret hung between the two men. He knew. Wulf knew.
"Vilkas!", came a cry from the other room. The others must have finished arguing over the map.
The Companion jerked back into alertness. "We will talk later", he stated curtly and turned away.
Wulf's only answer was a mocking sneer, but he did not follow the Companion back into the room.
"What was that about?", Aela asked as soon as her shield-brother had taken a seat. He looked rather pale. She did not miss that he was alone, either.
"He knows", came the rasped reply. "Wulfryk knows about the beastblood."
Time seemed to stop for a while after this proclamation as all eyes were glued to Vilkas. And then everybody began to talk at once.
"He failed", Vilkas heard Skjor say as an answer to something Aela had told him. "He is not one of us."
"This changes things", Kodlak muttered, shaking his head and rubbing at his eyes.
"We have but two options. Turn him or – " The Huntress never finished the sentence.
Skjor interrupted her, stabbing his finger in the direction of the door "He is no Companion!"
Vilkas was sick of quarrels, he had had his measure for the day. "Can we discuss this after my brother is back in Jorrvaskr?", he roared above the general uproar, slapping the table to get the attention of the others.
"We need to decide what to do about the whelp now", Skjor insisted with stubborn resolve.
"We cannot allow him to spread the news", Aela agreed, nodding her assent. "I say we vote now. Vilkas?"
"Farkas is being carted off to Krev as we speak!", the Companion in question bellowed. "Do you think I give a shit about votes!?"
It was Kodlak, bless his heart, who found a temporary solution and put an end to the argument. "What of this", the old warrior suggested "Wulfryk will remain here, in Jorrvaskr for now, where I can keep an eye on him. He is not a Companion and he will not accompany you. Once you are back, the full Circle will vote."
There was some grumbling, but it died down quickly. There was something infinitely calming about the Harbinger and his unshakable composure. "And now we should concentrate upon rescuing our shield-brother", the old warrior resumed. "Vilkas, do you have a plan?"
Vilkas took a deep breath to clear his mind and find his bearings. "Wulf was right when he suggested that we should attack them on the road", he began thoughtfully. "Strike before they reach Gallows Rock." He looked up to see everybody nod and continued more confidently "Aela, I want you to shoot as many of them as you can. Skjor, you will turn and wreak chaos. Once the fighting gets thick, Aela can join you. Engage if you have to, but under any circumstances keep them bastards on the move. Keep them busy." Vilkas saw the Huntress and Skjor share a grin. He knew their fighting styles and how they complemented each other. He wouldn't have to tell them anything else.
"I will try to get Farkas out", he carried on after a brief pause. "We cannot allow the Silver Hand to take him hostage during the fight."
Or kill him. But that went without saying.
"Remember, distraction is more important than outright slaughter." Vilkas looked at his fellow warriors. "You have studied the map. Did you come up with a suitable location for an ambush?"
"Aye", Skjor replied and drew a small dot on the map. "The woods are dense in these hills. Aela and I have hunted here before. Those Silver Hand bastards will be dead before they know what hit them and Farkas will be safe. You can count on us, Vilkas."
xxxx
Wulf was seething. He was sitting outside, in the courtyard, and the cold air did little to cool him down.
Kodlak had visited him a short time ago and when the Harbinger had begun their talk with 'I'm sorry to tell you lad', he'd known he wouldn't like what was coming.
It appeared killing a dragon and nearly dying for your lycanthropic friend in some bloody barrow whilst fighting off the enemy was not enough to be accepted into the Companions. It made Wulf wonder what miraculous deeds of heroism the other whelps had performed.
It also made him want to pay a visit to Belethor, buy a galleon of paint from the surly merchant and write 'THE COMPANIONS ARE WEREWOLVES' on Jorrvaskr's front wall in bold letters. Petty dreams of a revenge that he would not follow through with, but one could dream.
Worst of all had been Aela's reaction when he had tried to press some answers out of her. He had thought they were friends, but apparently he had been wrong. He was not one of them, no Companion, and they would not accept his help in freeing Farkas, even after it had been Wulf who made the rescue possible in first place. Did he get any gratitude? No, he did not. All he got was a reminder to behave.
"And don't think about following us", the Huntress had told him, grim-faced. "Vilkas has made sure you're not getting your horse from the stable master until we are back."
Vilkas had grunted in affirmation levelled a dark look at him in warning. Wulf had retailed with a rude gesture. There wasn't much else he could do, except thinking up a half-assed plan to steal another horse. If death by hanging had been a sufficient scare-off, he wouldn't have a horse in first place. He only doubted that he would make it as far as the stables without keeling over.
So he had limped outside – by now his side had begun to burn again – picked up a sword at random and cloven a practice dummy in half, regretting only that it was not alive so he could watch it scream and writhe in agony. The action had pulled at his stitches painfully and Wulf had sunk into the first chair he reached. He had yet to get up. It gave him plenty of time with nothing to do, but twirl the blade between his hands and bemoan the loss of his own Skyforge Steel sword.
A snort behind him had made Wulf look up and turn his head.
"What are you doing with that blade, using it as a crutch?", Skjor joked.
That's exactly what Wulf had done, but the comment stung nonetheless.
"Actually I'm thinking of shoving it up a place on you I'm sure Aela never found!", he shot back over his shoulder.
Instead of letting himself be drawn into another quarrel, Skjor came closer and took a seat himself, stretching out his legs comfortably. "How did you kill all those Silver Hand warriors by yourself?", he asked with what appeared to be honest curiosity.
"One after the other." Wulf did not need to mention that he had let others do most of the work for him.
"Ten against one", Skjor mused. "Those are some long odds." After a while he added "You must have known by then."
"About you being werewolves?" Wulf wasn't sure where this conversation was leading, but he was willing to keep it up for now. "Yes, I knew", he confirmed. "It did not stop me from trying to save Farkas, I fail to see why it is such a big deal now."
"Because we have to protect our own", the elder warrior replied.
"By keeping me away? That doesn't make any sense, Skjor", Wulf pointed out. "You'd be better to keep a close eye on me, no?"
The Companion nodded and replied "That's why Kodlak wants to keep you here."
"And what do you want?" Honestly, Wulf was growing tired of their talk.
It seemed Skjor had been waiting for this very question, because he leaned forward now, resting his elbows on his thighs. "I want you to come with us", he said.
It wasn't the answer Wulf had expected. "Why? You argued against my joining."
"That I did. I won't say I'm sorry; I have my reasons. But a warrior who can take on the Silver Hand ten on one and live through it? It would be a waste not to have you with us." His next question caught Wulf by surprise. "Tell me: do you trust me?"
"As far as I can toss you", Wulf chuckled. "Which isn't very far in my current state."
"Good." For some reason Skjor seemed to be pleased with his answer. "Aela and I have been thinking-"
"Congratulations."
There was a flicker of annoyance that disappeared as quickly as it had come. "She is sorry, you know?"
He didn't. "So why are you telling me this?", Wulf enquired.
"Because Vilkas is watching her. She can't come."
There was nothing Wulf could say really, and so he waited for Skjor to resume.
When he did, the warrior seemed angry. "The Companions, you see, we have gone for the dogs. Ria? Torvar? They're bloody pups compared to the warriors who used to live in Jorrvaskr. Kodlak, now I love and respect the Harbinger and I won't utter a single bad word about him, but he has denied us the glory that we could rise towards."
A lot of words that made little sense, as far as Wulf was concerned. "Do you want me to join now or not?", he enquired of the other man. "Make up your bloody mind. I'm confused".
"Join?", Skjor grunted derisively. "No, I do not want you to join. I want to bind you to the Companions. Make you one of us."
One of them? What was that supposed to mean. Wulf had a distinctively bad feeling about this. Whatever this actually was. "Why do I get the feeling that Vilkas and Kodlak would disapprove and that you're planning something without their consent?"
"Curious?" The laughter was evident in Skjor's voice, but when the Companion got up, the only thing he said was "Meet Aela and me in the Underforge tonight. We'll explain."
And with those words he left Wulf to his thoughts. The Nord gave his sword another twirl and listened to the metallic scrape of the tip dancing across the stone floor. He had been awake only a few hours, but he nonetheless should go inside and get some more rest since it looked like he had a nightly appointment.
AN: Thank you all for reading. Major changes have been made to chapter 3,8,9 and lesser ones to 10,11. More in AN ch2.