A/N: Oh, gurl.

Chapter 36

Rory left Riften in a hired carriage. When that wasn't fast enough, she stole a horse on the outskirts of Windhelm and rode hard for Snowpoint. When the horse began to tire, she abandoned it and ran as fast as she could without making herself sick.

She experienced a mixture of fear and determination as she traveled. Lilly had escaped with her life, but she was now on the run with Brynjolf and Karliah. More than one time in her life, she'd been in the same situation, and she knew how dangerous that could be. She wasn't going to sit by and do nothing, just hoping that they were all right.

Rory couldn't physically track the group, but she was going to do her best to attempt to intercept them. How she was going to do that, she wasn't sure, but she was going to try.

She reached Snowpoint less than four full days after exiting The Rift. Barely pausing to force herself to drink water, she marched straight up to Kyrr's cabin.

The pack leader stood in the hall, talking to Lejla. When he saw Rory stomping up to him, his mouth fell slack and his eyes showed disbelief.

"Rory?" He looked behind her. "Where is Aldric? Is something wrong?"

"Where's Amon?" she demanded.

"I…Amon is outside, with his brother. Has something happened?" The alpha called after her when she turned on her heel. "Rory!"

She found the man she was looking for. Amon was climbing up the mountainside, attracted by the yells from inside the cabin. Other pack members were starting to drift closer as well. Seraph followed his brother, frowning.

"Back so soon?" Amon asked her, smirking.

She put her hands on her hips. "I came for you. I need someone at my back."

The amusement on his face dissolved. "What happened to Aldric?"

"He's away. I don't know when he'll be back, and I couldn't wait for him. Will you leave with me or not?"

"He cannot!" Kyrr yelled from behind her.

"Yes," Amon said at nearly the same time. Beside him, Seraph looked shocked and gaped at his brother.

"No!" Kyrr walked between them and rounded on Rory. "I will not allow Amon to leave the pack. He is the strongest among us, and I have need of him to protect my people."

"I'm sorry to take him from you, Kyrr," Rory apologized. "Something has happened to my sister. She was nearly killed a week ago. I need to take Amon with me to find her."

His eyes were hot with anger. "Where is Aldric?"

"Aldric is visiting Fort Dawnguard, the way I told you he would." She spread her hands plaintively. "I need Amon."

"You cannot have him," Kyrr snarled.

Rory didn't want it to come to this, but she had prepared for it nevertheless. She looked past him to Amon. "Will you come with me?"

He answered immediately. "Yes."

"NO!" Kyrr roared, turning to face the other wolf. "Have you forgotten yourself, Amon? I am your alpha, and my word is law! You will not leave with this woman!"

It was as if Amon didn't even see Kyrr. His face never lost its steady, calm expression as he stared into Rory's eyes. "I am ready to leave when you are."

Feeling terrible, Rory stepped around Kyrr and began to walk down the mountainside. The other pack members were huddled in groups together, watching the situation unfold with unease. Apprehension was plain on their faces.

Her drive to protect Lilly and make sure she was safe was stronger than anything else she felt at the moment, however—stronger even than the wish to keep Snowpoint safe. She caught Liana's small, pale face peeking at her from between two tents, and she looked away.

Amon started to follow her, and Rory turned when she heard Seraph call out. "Brother! Do not do this. Think," he pleaded. "Use your mind. She has clouded it. Do not do this."

"Have you bewitched Amon the same way your father bewitched your mother?" Kyrr yelled. "Have you taken his free will?"

"Amon believes this is his opportunity to edge out Aldric from the competition to become her mate," Seraph announced, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Rory ignored both of them. Amon did the same, and moved toward her. A hand appeared on Amon's bare shoulder, wrenching him to face Kyrr.

It was Seraph. His face was full of anxiety, and another emotion Rory couldn't identify. "Amon!" he snapped.

Amon roughly shrugged his brother's hand away from him. "Let me go, Seraph!"

Seraph made another grab for Amon's shoulder, harder this time, trying to force him to stay. Amon violently slapped Seraph's arm away, and his fist slammed into his brother's jaw.

The healer fell to the ground, his hand held to his face. He looked up at Amon, shocked, and Rory saw that Kyrr held the same expression. Everyone in the camp watched Amon warily.

"What has happened to you, my friend?" Kyrr whispered.

"Living with the pack has been enjoyable for me," Amon said, "but I am tired of being controlled by you, Kyrr."

"If you leave us now, you can never come back." The alpha stared at him. "I will banish you. The same goes for you, Rory. You will be banished the same way your mother was. History is repeating itself, it seems."

Amon shook his head, his dark hair swinging against his back. "I don't care." And then he laughed.

"Amon!" Seraph exclaimed, still on the ground.

Kyrr pointed to a younger man standing next to him. "Fetch Amon's belongings from his quarters within. Bring it outside, everything." He stared Amon down as he spoke.

Noiselessly, everyone waited for several moments that felt like an hour. Finally, the man emerged from inside, his arms full of various items. A woman followed him, holding Amon's shield and sword.

Kyrr directed the two pack members to dump everything on the ground. Amon walked forward and picked up his weapon and shield, seeming for all the world that it was just another day. Not a hint of distress entered his face, and for the first time Rory started to think she had made a rather large mistake.

Seraph watched her, and she was surprise to see compassion and sympathy on his face. Somehow, he understood that something was very wrong. He would have been well within his rights to hate her—after all, he might never see his brother again thanks to what she was doing.

"Let's go, Amon," she said softly, touching his elbow.

He broke the stare he'd been sharing with Kyrr, and turned to follow her. The trip out of the camp was marked with dead silence. Every pack member stared at them, their faces still and accusing.

Kaspar was the only one that spoke to them. He ran out of the watchtower as they passed it. "What are you doing? This is not the kind of person you are, Rory."

She fixed her eyes on the terrain ahead, hating the hard cast to her words as she answered him. "This is exactly the kind of person I am, Kaspar. I'm not good the same way Aldric is."

"Need, take, have." Amon's deep voice sounded behind her. "She is a true wolf, Kaspar."

Rory's jaw tightened. She left the scout standing forlornly behind them, watching helplessly as they walked away.

Traveling with Amon was a nightmare. To avoid the problem of his desire to sleep next to her the same way Aldric did, Rory had them sleep in shifts under the guise of keeping up a watch.

If they had actually needed to keep watch, they would have been killed numerous times over during Amon's shifts, because all he did was watch Rory. She slept restlessly, unable to relax under his gaze. No matter how far away she moved her bedroll away from him at night, he was right next to her when she woke.

Since they had only the one bedroll, they both occupied it. Waking up covered in Amon's scent, and smelling herself on him, was faintly unpleasant. She missed Aldric more and more with each passing hour.

"Are you ever going to tell me what we're doing?" he asked one morning. "Or is this merely your excuse to get me all to yourself?"

She ignored the teasing lilt in his voice. "I left my little sister with people Aldric trusted before we came to the pack. The same vampires that attacked Snowpoint found out where she was and tried to kill her."

He sobered. "What exactly do you aim to do with me?"

"I need your help. We're going to try to find Aldric's friends and my sister. They're on the run."

Amon's face was unreadable. "You'd have done better taking Kaspar with you instead of me. He is a scout and a tracker. He's nearly as fast as you are, though he doesn't have your stamina."

"I might agree with you there, but Kaspar can't handle himself if it came down to a fight," she pointed out. "Not the way you can."

He seemed pleased that she had acknowledged his prowess. "Who do you expect to fight? Surely not the friends of Aldric you trusted?"

"No." She frowned at him. "There's a good chance they're being pursued by the same vampires that attacked their stronghold. They don't give up easily."

"They could be anywhere in Skyrim," he said flatly.

"I am aware of that. Surely you can understand that staying in one place, just waiting to hear word, is impossible."

He grinned then. "You are as stubborn as I am."

She didn't respond to that, eating her breakfast. Amon had killed an entire elk the night before and they had more than enough meat available. The rest of the carcass, however, was unusable. She left it in the woods for the sabercats, annoyed that so much of it had gone to waste. Rory suspected Amon had brought down the bull to prove that he could provide game, should they be mated, which was almost laughable in its stupidity.

After a while, they packed up their tiny site and left. Amon kept his remarks to himself after that, for which she was grateful. She didn't feel like she had energy to spare dealing with his boundary issues.

The past few days had been fruitless. They had traveled to Rorikstead and questioned anyone on whether they'd seen Brynjolf or Karliah. Then from there, she had cut through Falkreath—Aldric had told her about the Twilight Sepulcher.

She'd been vaguely concerned about trying to enter the Sepulcher, not knowing what she would face inside, but she ended up not needing to. Only animals had passed near the structure in weeks; there was no trace of human activity, not even old footprints.

After her emotions had begun to clear, she had realized the severity of her mistake by taking Amon with her. Before going to Snowpoint, she had been seized with the powerful and delusional thought that she would be able to find Brynjolf, Karliah, and Lilly if she just tried hard enough. The sheer size of the land quickly squashed that, however. She had not felt stupider in decades.

Now Amon was stuck with her. Kyrr had banished him, and if Amon tried to return to the pack, he would kill him. She held doubts about that—part of her didn't believe Kyrr would have it in him to do it. He was more likely to accept him again after some negotiation. But she hesitated to send Amon back in case she was wrong. Either Kyrr or Amon would die if the pack leader held to his words after all.

Rory decided to travel to Whiterun after all. They were nearby, and she would feel brainless if the Nightingales had visited there without her knowledge. She could send word to Aldric, and she hoped that with his presence, he could soothe Kyrr and have the alpha take his second back.

On their way out of the Pale and into Whiterun Hold, they had a strange encounter. Close to a farm, Rory spotted a wagon on the side of the road with a broken wheel. The wagon held a very large wooden box in the cargo area, and against it leaned a man dressed in what could only be a jester's outfit.

Rory had never seen anything like the man. Bells jingled on the drooping ends of his hat, and his shoes were pointed upward at the toe, almost like a child's doll. He mumbled and fumed to himself as they drew nearer, his high-pitched voice furious. A loud cackle burst out of him, startling her.

Amon had been about to ask if he needed assistance, and she grabbed him by the forearm, leading him well away from the strange man. He looked at her, wordlessly questioning, and she shook her head. She could smell old death on the jester, like he had been touching corpses recently.

"Were you afraid of him?" Amon asked once they were far away from the odd man.

"No. Something's not right about him, though. He looks harmless enough, but…I can't explain it. Something in his eyes," she said, looking over her shoulder.

He laughed. "Very well."

When they reached Whiterun, Rory left Amon outside while she entered The Bannered Mare, looking for a courier. As luck would have it, one was inside eating his supper. She gave him a letter for Aldric in Riften, keeping her word that she would tell him where she was.

Then she considered if Amon would listen to her if she told him to sleep here, while she went on to Jorrvaskr. Looking at his face as she closed the inn's doors behind her, she sighed. Not likely.

"I've heard of the Companions," he said. "Legendary warriors, eh? Let's see."

Rory didn't like the tone in his voice, or the look on his face. It occurred to her that he would feel challenged by the skills of the Companions, and that it might be even worse when he discovered the Circle was comprised of werewolves.

Swearing in her head, she watched him swagger past her into the building.

Aela watched Amon eat at the long table in front of the fire inside Jorrvaskr. "You are sure our Harbinger will return soon?"

Rory nodded again tiredly. "Yes. I've sent a courier to him just now. He should be here within a few days. You're sure no one has visited?"

The huntress looked at her. "Jorrvaskr always has its share of visitors eager to prove their worth and join the Companions, or to challenge us. But no, I have not seen anyone fitting the description you provided."

"What about any of the others?"

She shook her head. "They would have mentioned it to me. And I would have recognized Lilly's scent anywhere around the building if she had been here. She shares your unique smell. It is not easy to forget."

"Thank you, Aela. If it's not too much trouble, could I sleep here tonight?"

Aela smiled. "Of course. I've already sent Tilma to prepare Aldric's quarters."

"And Amon? Is he welcome here?"

The other woman looked over at him. She watched Njada snipe at Amon; whatever he said back to her shut her right up. "He could sleep with the whelps in the common quarters."

Sweating in the heat reflected from the cobblestones in the training yard, Rory dodged her opponent's next blow. She lashed out with one of her swords, and it was swiftly met in midair by the steel of her target's greatsword.

Farkas had good-naturedly goaded her into sparring with him. It was a friendly contest, and not a serious one, so she hadn't been using her full strength or speed. However, she'd had to quickly reconsider once she engaged the Companion.

"I've been practicing," he grinned, his teeth very white against the darkness of his stubble and the old war paint on his face. "Aela has been improving my speed."

"I can see that," she replied breathlessly, moving backward.

Farkas had removed his heavy steel breastplate and was stripped to the waist, his bare upper body slick with sweat of his own. He was bigger and more muscular than even Aldric. Rory was envious that he could remove his armor in the midday heat.

He came at her again. Wanting a break, she put on a burst of speed and knocked his blade aside with her left sword. He stumbled, and she spun and brought her right blade to rest against the side of his neck.

Farkas smiled again. "You win this round," he admitted, "but I want a rematch."

She laughed, still trying to catch her breath. "You're relentless!"

A voice called out from the shady porch. "Mind if I join?"

Rory frowned at Amon. "No, I've had enough for now."

"I was not talking to you, Rory." He stared past her at Farkas.

The other man raised his brows, looking only briefly at Rory. "I suppose. I'm not too tired yet."

Rory's instincts were triggered as Amon descended the steps into the yard, his shield already strapped to his arm. She didn't like the set of his mouth, or the way that he was studiously avoiding looking at her as he passed.

Farkas was, without a doubt, the largest and strongest of all the Companions. He, like Aela and Vilkas, was dominant, but it was a passive sort of dominance. He had a kind spirit, and it was easy to see. He reminded her faintly of Maksim—powerful, but not gripped by the need to prove it to others.

As she watched Amon take his position in the yard across from Farkas, she wondered if that mattered to him at all. She had overestimated his tolerance before, and she was now wondering if it was wise to assume that Amon wouldn't feel the need to challenge the other man.

The two men began to spar. Amon had sunk into a low crouch, his shield raised. Farkas circled him for a moment, and then swept his greatsword horizontally toward Amon's ribs.

The shield was instantly there to block the blow, and then back into its position in front of Amon. Farkas tried another blow, and that too was blocked. Amon was not taking the offensive at all, merely shutting down each of Farkas's swings. Rory narrowed her eyes; that was unlike him.

After a short while, it was clear that Farkas was growing frustrated with the constant blocking. Grunting with effort, he drove his sword over his head, aiming to stumble Amon.

Amon was too quick for that, however. He lunged forward with his shield and parried the blow, knocking aside the sword. He continued the motion, however, and slammed his shield into Farkas's chest.

Farkas lost his footing at the brutal strike, and he drew his brows together as he frowned at Amon. Rory shared his quiet irritation. That was out of line for a friendly sparring match.

Amon's style changed after that. He not only blocked every one of Farkas's blows, he took the effort to do it aggressively. Rory could see that Farkas's knuckles were reddened, some of them even starting to bleed. Amon was aiming at his hands, which was a low thing to do, seeing as how Farkas wore no protective gauntlets.

She wanted to interfere and call off the match. Amon was taking it too personally. However, unless someone acquiesced or lost, both of them were likely to ignore her.

Suddenly, Amon's shield darted out again, and Rory could hear a crack from where she stood. Farkas immediately dropped his greatsword, shaking out his right hand with a curse.

Amon ignored the fact that Farkas was now disarmed, and hit him again with his shield. His sword flashed in the light as he struck at Farkas's head, and for a heart-stopping moment, Rory thought he had taken his eye.

Farkas fell to the ground, and she ran to his side, hovering over him. Gently, she pulled his hand away from the left side of his face. The tip of Amon's sword had slashed an ugly gash along Farkas's cheekbone. Dark blood began to well from the wound, and she guided his hand back over it.

The Companion looked up at her, his eyes darkened with confusion and anger. "Sit still, Farkas. It's my responsibility to handle this."

She rounded on Amon, who was standing well away from the two of them. He had dropped his sword and shield, clearly expecting that Farkas would charge him.

"Not that legendary after all, it would seem," he said to her, a lazy grin spreading across his face.

She picked up his shield, holding it like a plate in her hands. He reached his arms out, thinking she was handing it to him, and she rammed the edge of it hard into his gut. All his breath rushed out of him, and he grunted as he dropped to the ground, one arm curled around his stomach.

"I think you cracked a rib," he wheezed, writhing in pain.

"Are you a child, Amon? Are you incapable of controlling yourself?" she snarled down at him. Her entire leg vibrated with the urge to kick him in the face while he was down. "You attack another of my friends again, and you'll face me."

When she looked up, she saw that Farkas had made it to the porch and was standing next to his brother. Vilkas was staring down at her, face impassive. She wasn't sure how much of it he'd seen.

Blood coated Farkas's face, and had rolled down his neck and chest. She left Amon on the ground to recover his breath, and followed the twins inside to help Farkas care for his injury.

Aldric couldn't get to Whiterun fast enough.