A few things:

1. I have not finished writing this story.

2. As I have not finished writing this story, updates will be sporadic, and under no kind of schedule, so you'll just have to keep coming back to check.

3. I am taking liberties, so don't come at me with your lore. I just want to tell the tale I've crafted for my Dragonborn.


"Hey, congratulations on your job!" Njada called to Cry as she passed where she sat at the mead hall table. "I heard Aela and Farkas talking about how well you did."

Cry shrugged one shoulder. "It was nothing, really," she said, "just some draugr."

And some bandits that were after a werewolf, but the werewolf was on my side, so it's no big deal.

Except for the fact that it was. A huge deal.

Now that she didn't need to worry about making it through Dustman's Cairn alive anymore, she had plenty of time to think about what she had learned, and what Farkas had learned as well. First of all, how rude of him to blackmail her in order to keep her secret. Second of all, what a relief to have at least one other person who knew she was the Dragonborn inside Jorrvaskr. Still, however, she wasn't sure that the agreement they had come to was going to stand; she was definitely not going to do any favor Farkas asked of her. That was just ridiculous.

And the werewolf thing. Good Gods.

She settled down in a chair at one of the tables in the corner of the dining hall, and rested her chin in her hand, gazing at the floor. She didn't want to think about it, but it was all that she could do. Farkas was a werewolf, the rest of the Circle were werewolves. What the actual -

"Hey." She glanced up and found Vilkas standing before the table, studying her.

"What do you want?" she asked him, not really in the mood to be ordered around.

"Skjor wants to speak with you," Vilkas responded, gesturing towards where Skjor stood against one of the wooden supports.

"Then why doesn't he come over to where I am?" Cry queried, under her breath.

"Hey, watch that tone," Vilkas warned, frowning at her.

Cry glared back, and pushed herself into a standing position before shoving past him towards where Skjor was. She stopped in front of him, and crossed her arms. "What?"

"Not in the best mood, are we?" Skjor queried, and Cry chose not to respond. "Well, we'll see how you feel after your ceremony."

"My what?" Cry asked tiredly, and Skjor exhaled a breath.

"Your ceremony to induct you into the Companions."

That caught her attention. She looked at him, her eyebrows drawn together. "Wait, what?"

Skjor nodded. "Farkas discussed it with me, and I discussed it with Kodlak, and he feels that you're ready to join," he told her.

"But… I've barely joined," Cry said, still frowning. "I don't understand -" She cut herself off as she finally understood it, and she met Skjor's gaze. "Oh. Right."

Skjor nodded again. "Exactly. So, after dinner, meet us in the training yard, and we'll get you inducted." He walked away, leaving Cry to return her gaze to the ground, deep in thought. Was she going to have to become a werewolf, too? Because she didn't want to be a werewolf, not in the slightest. But, she supposed if all the other Circle members were, and if she was going to be part of the Circle…

No, she wasn't going to be in the Circle. Just a Companion, like everyone else in Jorrvaskr. That was fine. She didn't have to become a werewolf if she was just a Companion. But… why had Skjor acted like - ugh.

She let out an exhalation. This wasn't going to improve her mood in the slightest.


Right after dinner, Cry headed out into the training yard, and she found the Circle members already there, waiting for her. She walked up to them, and Kodlak grinned warmly at her.

"Brothers and sisters of the Circle," he began, glancing around at everyone present. "Today we welcome a new soul into our mortal fold. This woman has endured, has challenged, and has shown her valor." He looked once more at Cry. "Who will speak for her?"

"I stand witness to the courage of the soul before us," Farkas stated, straightening his shoulders. Cry glanced at him, and he winked back, grinning. Cry turned her gaze to her feet.

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

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

"And would you raise your sword in her honor?"

"It stands ready to meet the blood of her foes," Farkas assured.

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

Cry glanced upwards, and saw that Farkas was still grinning at her. "I would lead the song of triumph as our mead hall reveled in her stories," he said proudly.

"Then the judgement of this Circle is complete," Kodlak determined, looking around at everyone once more. "Her heart beats with 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 may tremble at the call."

Everyone spoke up then, in agreement and confirmation of Kodlak's words: "It shall be so."

And, just like that, it was over, and Kodlak was gesturing her forward to him. "You're one of us now," he began. "I trust you won't disappoint."

"I'll do my best not to," Cry promised, and then she glanced around to make sure none of the whelps were close by to hear what she had to say next. "I do have a few questions, however."

"I would imagine so," Kodlak agreed. "Farkas told us about your discovery of our secret."

"Yeah, so… you're all werewolves?" Cry demanded. "How did that happen?"

"Through a long, arduous, and not exactly pleasant story," Kodlak replied with a tired sigh. "Perhaps I will tell it to you, one day."

Cry let out a breath of her own. "All right, well, does this mean that I have to become a werewolf?" she asked him, and he smiled at her.

"Not at all," he said. "It is a choice one should be free to make, whether or not they are part of the Circle, which, remember, you are not. Not yet, at any rate. Not all Companions need to hold the ability to hunt like a wolf, young one; it does not change your standing in the slightest."

That relieved Cry to no end, and she felt her shoulders relax. "Thank you," she said, and Kodlak nodded.

"Why don't you go speak to Eorlund?" he suggested. "I think it's high time you chose a weapon worthy of a Companion."

Cry grinned sheepishly, and Kodlak winked at her before turning and heading back into Jorrvaskr. Cry headed up to the Skyforge, where she found Eorlund settled down at the grindstone. Before he could start working, she trotted over to him.

"I need a weapon," she announced, and Eorlund gave her a dry look.

"Didn't you come say the exact same thing to me two days ago, and then promptly not choose one?" he queried.

Cry nodded. "I did, but now I need one, because I'm a real Companion, and soon I'm going to be part of the Circle."

"Oh, are you?" Eorlund tilted his head, suddenly amused. "Interesting."

"Why?"

"Well, the last whelps to join the Circle were Farkas and Vilkas," Eorlund responded, "and that was almost two years ago, now."

Cry frowned. "Really?"

Eorlund nodded. "And those two have been with the Companions practically their whole lives." He shrugged. "Ah, well, perhaps Kodlak sees something in you." He turned and nodded to the weapons that were hanging off of the rack nearby. "There's a selection for you to look at; Skyforge steel all. Pick one, and don't come back until you need it sharpened."

Cry smiled, and she walked over to the weapons rack. As she looked them over, she heard grunting coming from the yard below, and the sound of a blade hitting one of the training dummies. Peering over the wall, her eyes landed on Vilkas. He was holding a greatsword that glinted in the setting sun, and swinging it furiously at the training dummies. Each swing made contact, because of how long the blade was, and how wide a reach Vilkas had while swinging it.

As Cry watched him, the weapon sang.

She turned to Eorlund. "I want one of those," she stated, pointing.

He grunted as he rose from the grindstone, and walked over to where she was so that he could see what she meant. After a moment, he snorted. "No, lass," he said. "You're too slight to wield a greatsword like that."

Cry scowled at him. "I want a greatsword," she said, determined. "I don't care how heavy it is; it's what I want to fight with." She crossed her arms. "Make me one."

Eorlund gazed at her steadily for a moment, and then he cracked a smile. "You're serious, aren't you?" Cry nodded, once, and he nodded back. "All right, I'll make you a greatsword. I should have it ready in two days or so. Do you think you can wait that long?"

Cry nodded again, and then she grinned. "Thanks, Eorlund."


Several days later found Cry training with her completed greatsword. She couldn't believe how beautiful it was, how much it shone in the sunlight. It was the most gorgeous thing she'd ever seen, and she'd seen freshly fallen snow on the Whiterun plains, and a deer drinking from a stream, and a number of other beautiful sights.

Her Skyforge steel greatsword, currently, was at the top of the list.

"Whoo-hoo!" Cry cheered as she swung her blade and it sliced easily through the wooden neck of the training dummy. The head of the dummy went flying across the training yard. She grinned down at her greatsword. "I knew you were the right choice for me!" she said to it.

She went back to swinging at the dummies, dancing between them, slicing at them. It was amazing, how much she could reach with her sword, and how long it was. She had to admit, it was pretty heavy, but that didn't matter so much to her. She was already starting to build up muscles that made it easy to support.

"Vilkas!" she called, catching sight of him on the eating area. He looked at her, and she held up the sword, grinning toothily. "I'm going to be better than you in no time!"

"You wish!" he returned, and then he went after Farkas, who was chuckling from where he sat at one of the tables.

Cry went back to her training, although her thoughts had drifted, and she wasn't exactly paying attention to what she was doing, any longer. She wanted to train with Vilkas, but she didn't know how to go up and ask him for training. Shouldn't he be the one to approach her, and ask if she wanted help training? He was part of the Circle, and none of the others ever had to ask for training.

Cry shook her head to herself. She could figure out the basics on her own, she knew, but she had seen Vilkas in the yard, seen the way he handled his greatsword, and she wanted to be just as good as he was.

Well, she thought, stopping after she removed the head from the second dummy, maybe I can learn by watching him.

She moved away from the training dummies, towards where she had dropped a water skin on one of the tables. She pulled the cork out of it, and downed most of the water that was inside of it, exhaling once she'd lowered the skin. It was a hot day, surprising for early Hearth Fire. Most of the Companions were inside, because of this; only Farkas and Vilkas were outside, and they were under the shade of the cover of the eating area, discussing something quietly between the two of them.

Cry tilted her head as she examined the two brothers. She knew that they had been with the Companions since they were children, and she wondered how much of Skyrim they had been able to experience. Sure, they had probably traveled all over on jobs, but had they spent any time in any of the holds, just… learning and enjoying themselves? She figured not.

Cry herself had spent her adolescent years mostly in Whiterun, and occasionally in Windhelm. It wasn't until she had gone to Markarth at ten that she had truly learned what a different landscape looked like, how a hold right next door to the one she had been raised in could be so strange, so wild, when Whiterun had been so… tame.

Still, even as the Dragonborn, she hadn't spent very much time in the Rift, or even in Falkreath. She had only gone as far north as Windhelm, still; Dawnstar and Winterhold were a mystery to her. Solitude had barely been touched.

She considered this, and then decided that, as soon as she was done dealing with the dragon business, that she would spend some time traveling, to get to know the land that she called home, and yet could not say she had fully experienced.

"Cry!"

She blinked, and looked over at Vilkas and Farkas again. Farkas was the only one still outside, now, and he had been the one to call her name. That was a nice change that had occurred since Dustman's Cairn; he elected to call her by her given name, rather than refer to her as 'whelp'. She dropped her water skin back down onto the table, and walked over to where he sat.

"You have time to do a job for me?" he asked her, and Cry nodded, sliding her greatsword into the scabbard on her back. It rested comfortably between her shoulder blades, and she had to force herself to keep from smiling.

"What is it?"

"Just some bandits that are being rough with a family on the border between Whiterun and Eastmarch," he responded with a shrug. "Shouldn't be difficult for you."

"Sure, I can handle it," Cry agreed. "I'll head out now, if you want."

Farkas shrugged in response. "Whenever, just get it done by the end of the week. Apparently, these bandits are lookin' for more than gold."

Cry frowned, unsure of what he meant by that, but decided not to ask when she saw the expression on his face. "Got it."

She turned and walked away, into Jorrvaskr. It was significantly cooler inside, and she wondered how that was possible. After retrieving her things from the living quarters, she headed back upstairs, only to be stopped by Skjor.

"When you come back, we have some things to discuss."

Cry frowned, wondering what that meant. She supposed it could be a number of things; maybe Skjor had a special job he wanted her to do, or he wanted her advice on how to admit he was in love with Aela… Cry thought that he might go to Kodlak for that second one before he came to her, but the first seemed plausible.

"Why can't you tell me about it now?" she asked, feeling curious, and he frowned at her.

"Because you already have a job to do. So go do it, and come back, and we'll discuss."

Cry frowned at him as he turned and walked away again. She didn't think she would be able to focus on the job that Farkas had given her, with the prospect of a discussion with Skjor waiting for her when she got back. All she would be able to think was what he could possibly want with -

Her thoughts came to an abrupt halt. No… he couldn't be. Could he?

Cry glanced over at where Vilkas sat at one of the corner tables, a book open in front of her. Something inside of her twisted uncomfortably, and she glanced at Skjor again. He had joined Aela on one of the benches, and they were discussing something quietly. Occasionally, one or the other would glance at her.

Damn, Cry thought, her heart dropping into her stomach. They're definitely going to.

Her shoulders suddenly felt very heavy. She nonetheless pushed her way out of Jorrvaskr, and headed towards the gates of Whiterun, waving off a comment that was passed to her by one of the guards, barely noticing that he called her 'Dragonborn'. Aela and Skjor wanted to turn her into a werewolf, and she didn't think there was anything that she could do about it.

She had no doubt that, as soon as she returned from her job for Farkas, she would be invited to join the Circle. She had no doubt that that offer would be paired with the offer of the beast blood. And she…

Well. She really wanted to be on the Circle.

She didn't know why, but since she had been a child, she had always been on a quest for power. At first, it had been little things, like wanting to know how to use a sword so that she could win in a fight against the kid that had lived on the farm a few miles away from her family's, who insisted on calling her sister "Bloody Faisley", because of her red hair. Then it had come in bigger things, like when she had made it to the top of a fighting guild in Morrowind.

Now, it was with things like this. She wanted to be on the Circle. She wanted to have one of the highest positions in the Companions, even though she had no intention of sticking around longer than it took Delphine and Esbern to find Sky Haven Temple. She wanted to be on the Circle, and… and she was extremely tempted to take the beast blood, if it meant that she would be.

Cry sighed outwards as she headed up the road that took her towards the border with Eastmarch. She knew that, once the opportunity arose, she would take it, no matter the cost. She would become a werewolf, one of Hircine's playthings, if it meant that she would be able to join the Circle. It was always about gaining more power for her, and she couldn't… she couldn't fight the urge.

It was annoying, but it was who she was. There was no sense denying the fact.