A/N: I will keep posting here when I have updates for as long as the site is still functional, and I will eventually start posting this to AO3. I have it all backed up in the same Google Doc I've been using since 2014, but my priority will be saving the fics I don't have backed up elsewhere tbh, and your lovely comments.

"Hail Companion!"

Elana froze on the steps down from Dragonsreach, toes pointed towards the gate out of Whiterun. She slowly turned to see Farkas waving her over from Jorrvaskr. When she hesitated, he waved harder, adding, "the Harbinger has asked for you."

That put a trot in her step, and she hurried over, into the mead hall, and down to the end of the living quarters where Kodlak was waiting.

"You must have been nearby. Thank you for coming."

"You wanted to see me, Harbinger?"

"Yes, youngling. Have a seat."

He waited until she was settled before continuing with an almost-question. "I hear you've been busy of late."

She did him the honor of replying all the same. "There is much to do. I hope it's brought honor to the Companions."

Kodlak chuckled. "Young one, I know what you've been up to. Mind you, it's no business of mine what each Companion does in the name of honor. But this procrastination? On such a task? It doesn't befit a warrior of your standing. In any case," he said, lifting a hand to stop the protesting of censure. "I have a task for you. Have you heard the story of how we came to be werewolves?"

She started at the swift change. "Well, Skjor said it was a gift from Hircine, but Vilkas said it was a curse laid on the ancient Companions."

"That sounds like them both, yet they each only have a nugget of truth. Reality is more complicated than that. It always is."

"So what is the truth then?"

As Kodlak gathered his words, Elana took a moment to breathe, to try and let go of the roiled hurt bubbling through her emotions. The mystery helped, gave her something to latch on to. She could feel the wolf and Mirmulnir coiled tight, interested in hearing what the Harbinger had to say as well.

"The Companions are nearly five thousand years old. This matter of beastblood has only troubled us for a few hundred. One of my predecessors was a good, but short-sighted man. He made a bargain with the witches of Glenmoril Coven. If the Companions would hunt in the name of their lord, Hircine, we would be granted great power."

"And they became werewolves?"

The Harbinger sighed. "They did not believe the change would be permanent. The witches offered payment, like anyone else. But we had been deceived."

"If it was done with trickery, surely it can be undone."

"We'll get to that. It's not so simple as just killing them, though. The disease, you see, affects not just our bodies. It seeps into the spirit. Upon death, werewolves are claimed by Hircine for his Hunting Grounds. For some, this is a paradise. They want nothing more than to chase prey with their master for eternity. And that is their choice. But I am still a true Nord. And I wish for Sovngarde as my spirit home."

Elana leaned forward, intent. "So, is there a way to cure yourself?"

Kodlak stared right back, every inch of what had made him a powerful hunter in the past shining through now. "That's what I've spent my twilight years trying to find out, and now I've found the answer. The witches' magic ensnared us, and only their magic can release us. They won't give it willingly, but we can extract their foul powers by force. I want you to seek them out. Go to their coven in the wilderness. Strike them down as a true warrior of the wild. And bring me their heads. The seat of their abilities. From there, we may begin to undue centuries of impurity."

She leaned back, nodding. "Am I to do this alone, then?"

"You shall have no Shield-Brother this time. But the spirit of Ysgramor goes with you, to restore the honor of his legacy." He eyed her, weighing, before adding, "Talos guide you, Elana."

With a tilted head, Elana asked, "I thought the Companions were neutral in the war?"

"Like I said, it is none of my business what a Companion does in their own name for honor. Some of us might strike out on their own, no Shield-Brother, to fight for what they deem necessary. Others might choose to wait and keep their faith in a quieter rebellion."

"You truly are the wisest of us, Kodlak."

"Thank you, young one. Now be gone. The world expects far too much of you to dawdle when given yet another task."

With a winking bow, Elana stood and hurried home to Breezehome to grab a few things.

"And where are you going so soon?"

Elana stopped at the door. "I'm going to listen to you, and I'm going to stop putting off important things. I'll handle the scroll, first, and I should hope that would be obvious. But then, no matter what, I'm going to handle Ulfric's stupid axe."

Vilkas nodded approvingly as he stepped closer. "And after?"

"Well hopefully Ulfric will listen to me and the after won't be dramatic at all. I'll be racing right back here."

"Good. I want more of your time."

"I'm sure we can find another farmer with a bear problem."

He grinned. "As long as it ends like the last one."

Elana reached up and pressed a kiss to his lips. "That was the plan. Now I really have to go, and hope I can somehow manage not to bring war to Whiterun while saving the rest of the world."