Aela

Worry wasn't something I did often. I was a huntress, a stalker of the night who could smell a prey for miles, then track it and have it dead before it was even aware. Even in moments of danger did I find myself accepting my fate to be at Hircine's side, hunting eternally. But only recently did I begin to see unrest in Skjor's eyes. I had known the man for years since I was a gangly girl, and him a cranky mercenary. We had joined the Companions at the same time and grew close through our training.

I had seen him annoyed, many many times. But in all of my time with him I had never seen him worried. Usually when the man had concerns, I was the first he came to. But for some reason, he held his worries close to his chest. It didn't take me long to figure out that his worries related to our new recruit. When she had first arrived, he seemed non-plussed about her, as if she was merely another whelp. But it was after our conversation of testing her that I noticed him start to worry.

My mind worked out the rest, and all I could do as I sat on the stairs of my home was shake my head and sigh. For many seasons, I had overheard Skjol speaking with the Kodlak about the line of succession. I knew why, as Kodlak Whitemane was no longer the young pup he used to be. Even with all his great power granted by Hircine, he rarely enjoyed leaving the hall anymore. More and more Skjol seemed to be dissatisfied with our leader's answer that the leader isn't chosen through line of succession, but through deed.

I found myself disappointed that one of the strongest nords I know was fretting over such a future. Looking at it from the outside, it made sense. She was more effective as a whelp than many Companions were as full members. Add into this mix the fact that she is supposedly the legendary warrior from the stories, and it became clear what was running through the man's head. His interaction at the table knowing that he was treating her unfavorably, his near permanent scowl the past several moons, and an ever-aging Kodlak.

I found myself wondering what had happened to the man who ran wildly at my side, hunting and raining terror on the pondscum of the land. Had he grown so different so quickly that she had hardly noticed?

As my thoughts continued to roil around in my head, I noticed the scent of blood in the air. Grinning to myself, I sat up and waited. Sure enough, both of them returned. Farkas began climbing the stairs, and I could see in the moonlight that his blade was clean of blood. This got me curious, as I could clearly smell it on him. But the whelp had a blade absolutely reeking of life. The twin approached me and stared me straight in the eyes.

"She knows," he said simply.

My brows raised curiously as I turned my head to look at her as she too ascended the stairs. "Yet she returns with you?"

He smirked lightly, an uncommon occurrence. "She showed no fear."

This gave me the mixed feeling of relief and excitement. I nodded to him. "And the fragment?"

He simply stepped aside, and she approached with a small satchel in her hand. It was odd seeing someone stand three stairs down and still able to meet my eyeline. But as she gave me the bag, I opened it to find the fabled shard etched with the horns of Hircine. "Glorious," I said as I looked up at her. "Both of you, follow me."

Within seconds, we were all around back with the Circle standing and waiting. Farkas chuckled as he approached his brother. "Waiting with confidence?"

"Your success was presumed, brother," said Vilkas as he greeted his kin. Finally, she approached. Kodlak, Skjol, Vilkas, Farkas, and I stood in a half circle as she approached, her eyes examining us curiously.

Kodlak himself stepped forward and spoke. "Brothers and sisters of the Circle, today we welcome a new soul into our mortal fold," he said as he eyed the woman, quite the task given her height. "Our shield-sister has endured, has challenged, and has shown her valor!" Then Kodlak smiled at her through his greying beard. "Now… who would speak for her?" he asked as he stepped back into the circle.

Vilkas was the first to step forward. "I would speak of her prowess!" he said as he drew his blade and held it aimed at the giant woman. "I clashed blades with our shield-sister! And though we did not aim to kill, she fought with ferocity I've only seen from my kin among the Circle. She is as relentless as a storm and will stand strong among us."

As Vilkas stepped back, his brother stepped forward. "I too will speak of her courage! I have seen her wits and her valor!" he said as his blade was drawn and aimed at her as well. "She showed a mind as quick as an arrow and defended me in battle even behind the bars of a cage. She is as courageous as a wolf and will stand strong among us."

Farkas stepped back and I saw Skjol look to me. I looked back, and I once again saw that look in his eyes. He was silently asking me not to step forward. It would be meaningless in the end, as with only two votes from the Circle, Kodlak would step in and break the tie. And there was little doubt that he had a lot of faith in the newcomer given his talk of visions. So, it was essentially him asking me to stand with him against her inclusion, a practice not only in futility, but in pettiness.

I looked to the newcomer, who eerily looked to me as if somehow understanding my predicament. She said nothing, and simply smiled, which had a soothing effect over me. It was then I knew what I had to do. As I stepped forward and aimed my blade at her, Skjol turned away. "I too would speak of her power! We all…" I began, aiming my gaze at Skjol, "have seen her strength. She cuts through foes as a farmer does wheat. She showed the conviction to help those in need with confidence well deserved. She is as strong as a mammoth and will stand strong among us."

This only made her soothing smile grow, making me smile back to her. Kodlak chortled to himself as her gaze turned to him. "Brothers and sisters! Will you raise your shield in her defense?"

Those of us who had shields raised them high and chanted together. "Aye! We will stand at her back, that the world might never overtake us!"

Again, Whitemane spoke another question. "And would you raise your sword in her honor?"

We all raised weapons, even Skjol, if not begrudgingly. "It stands ready to meet the blood of her foes!"

"And would you raise a mug in her name?" he asked finally.

Lowering both weapon and shield, we chanted once more. "We would lead the song of triumph as our mead hall reveled in her stories!" we finished.

Kodlak nodded and turned back to the woman. "Then the judgement of this Circle is complete. Her heart beats with the same fury and courage that has 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.

"It shall be so," we all echoed. Finally, Skjol, without another look at anyone, broke away from the congregation and made his way back into the hall. Vilkas and Farkas looked to me with understanding, and I nodded in acknowledgement. The next step must be taken.

We had sent the invitation. Now it was time to see if she would accept the gift. It was one thing to know of it, even better to not be afraid. But to take the gift for oneself was a different matter entirely, and I was curious to see if she did indeed want to join our ranks.

We didn't have long to wait, as she came through the door to the Undercroft with Farkas in tow. She stopped as she saw me as I was, in my true form. But her reaction was only momentary. She stepped inside and moved over to the chalice. Even Skjol stood inside the group, seemingly having accepted this woman's fate as one of our number.

He stepped up next to me as the woman looked to him for answers. "I'm glad you came. It's been ages since we had a heart like yours among our numbers. That pitiful ceremony behind the hall does not befit warriors like us," he said as he drew his blade from its sheath. "You are due more honor than some calls and feasting."

Farkas stepped up next to her with a cheeky grin. "I would hope you recognize Aela, even in this form." She looked from him to me, then nodded. "She has agreed to be your forebear."

Skjol let out a sigh of disappointment. "We do this in secret because Kodlak is too busy trying to throw away this great gift we've been granted. He thinks…" he started, then looked up to her eyes. "He thinks we've been cursed. But we believe this gift is a blessing," he remarked as he waved his arm to me. "How can something that gives this kind of prowess be a curse?" he asked, less of a question and more of a complaint. Then he stood straight. "So, we take matters into our own hands."

Vilkas stepped up next to me as he too appraised the new member of the Circle. "To reach the heights of the Companions, you must join with us in the shared blood of the wolf." He gave her a firm stare, his words leaving no room for doubt. "Are you prepared to join your spirit with the beast world, friend?"

She stared at him a long moment, then nodded, her hair glowing in the torchlight of the Underforge. Skjol nodded back to her. "Very well," he said, then turned to me. I held my clawed hand over the chalice, and with a quick motion he slashed my wrist open. Blood splattered the bowl before it began pooling. "Drink from the chalice, and join us, sister."

I gave a feral, toothy grin as she stepped forward and dipped both of her hands into the dark nectar of life. Scooping some up, she did as she was bade, and drank it deeply. When she finished, my blood stained her mouth. She reached down and gripped the rim of the chalice as the others prepared to hold her. This was tradition, as without the strength of others to hold a new pup in place, they would run wild and expose themselves to the town. While our true forms held great strength, the town's guardsmen could kill them. So, we held them as their transformation took place to keep them safe.

However, we had made an obvious miscalculation. As her eyes rolled upwards and turned white, her shoulders bulked massively. My eyes widened as her muscled arms grew even bigger. She let out a feral roar that shook the walls and caused ripples in the blood still in the chalice. Vilkas, Farkas, and even Skjol attempted to grab her and hold her in place. But her head that already nearly reached the ceiling grew so that her shoulders pressed against it. I had never felt true fear since I was a girl. I was always confident in my skills and accepting of my potential death.

But as this woman shifted into a massive wolf that expanded to fill nearly half the chamber, even I had to take a step back. Her face contorted and tore into a muzzle as fur sprouted all over her body, her rippling muscles doubling in her arms before they too were covered by fur. Finally, as she finished, she didn't move. None of the three trying to contain her could even get a grip on her due to her massive size.

Her gaze was locked on me in a solemn stare. Leaning forward, she nearly pressed her nose to mine before inhaling deeply, taking in my scent no doubt. I was unsure if she had somehow bypassed the first mindless, feral outburst that usually comes with the gift, or if she was simply different. But all she did was smell me for the longest moment. Her snout moved from mine, down to my neck, then to my arms. Then her snout lowered, and she took in deep the scent of my entire form.

We thought for a brief moment that she was calm, or we were likely hoping she was. But that changed in seconds as she swatted the three men away like dragonflies. They collided with the wall, and she let out an earsplitting roar directly in my face, her hot breath causing my own fur to flatten. Suddenly, she turned and slammed shoulder first into the door of the Undercroft. The stone portal cracked and shattered into the night air before she squeezed out and hurled herself over the wall.

I moved to check on the others before I too bolted out of the Undercroft and followed as fast as I could, knowing that she was capable of anything.

It was nearly morning before I was able to track her down. Using her newfound gift from Hircine, she frequently hurled herself into the air as if she could fly, creating wide gaps in her tracks that made her hard to trace. Mixed with her travelling downwind, ruining my ability to pick up her unique scent, and it took a long while for me to finally trace her steps.

When I found her, I was horrified. Not so much at what she had done, but at the power she truly wielded. She was curled up, growling and panting in a grotto painted with blood. Around her sat the carcasses of two giants as well as two of their mammoths. One of the large herders had its head completely removed in a single slice, while the other had multiple arm-sized holes in its chest. One of the mammoths lie in a pool of its own blood as its stomach was torn open, leaving its steaming insides exposed to the night air. And the final mammoth was intact, but after checking I found its neck had been broken as if something had tried to tear its head off but failed.

I approached slowly; her white eyes locked onto me as soon as I got into range. But she seemed to be docile at the moment. Ignoring the bloodbath around her, I slowly crawled on my paws towards her, allowing her rampant nose to take in my scent once more. In an act of comfort, I did the same and breathed in her unique aroma, the smell warming my blood.

Finally, I sat on all fours in front of her. She sat up similar to me, making me realize exactly how much the Undercroft had crunched her down. She was nearly twice my size and stared down at me as if I were a child. My heart pounded wildly, thoughts of the gift and how great it truly was now running through my mind. Whoever this woman was, whether dragonborn or tavernmaid, Hircine had truly gifted her. It was awe inspiring to the point where I had forgotten my fear of having my limbs torn off.

I moved forward more and gently pressed my furry head to her chest, her breathing still rapid as her body grew used to the transformation. I hoped to soothe her, not by force, but instead with a gentler touch. She looked down at me with those fearsome eyes and I heard her release a heavy sigh that felt like it weighed as much as the mammoths around me. My heart sped up as she reached around me and gripped me tightly, but I calmed as she then laid her head on mine. I curled into her, and together we stayed in the embrace with the blood from her body permeating us both.

It had been days since I had seen her. I began to feel a slight pang of guilt, as I felt like we had scared her with the transformations. As I have said many times, knowing of the gift is one thing, but accepting it is entirely different. And as the sun passed many times, I began to believe that she regretted her decision and was now avoiding us entirely.

Perhaps I was being arrogant. She was a dragonborn after all, and she likely had many important things to do as every lord in the land sought her favor. The Companions, while important, may have been simply another task she had to put off while striking down dragons across the rim. Putting my thoughts aside, I decided to keep myself busy to keep from thinking about it. I did many jobs asked of me by the jarls of several holds.

And it was one such job that I returned from on the seventh day. I entered Jorrvaskr and to my surprise I found her inside, talking animatedly with the whelps. As I entered, she looked up to me with a genuine smile that practically forced me to smile back at her. She turned back to the whelps and continued to answer their questions about the dragon that had been brought back into the city.

Feeling as if a boulder had fallen off my shoulders, I proceeded down the stairs of the great hall and into the chambers below. As I moved over to my room, I spotted Kodlak's door open at the end of the corridor. This piqued my curiosity and I moved to see if he was inside. Indeed, he was, he sat, as was common, at the table with food and snacks nearby. And of course, a large tankard of honey mead. But what I noticed most was the distressed look on his face.

"Kodlak, are you well?" I asked from the doorway.

He looked up with a saddened expression, making my concern grow. "Skjol has found the leader of the Silver Hand in Skyrim."

My eyebrows rose in surprise at the news. This was a good thing, but I still didn't understand why he was so heavy hearted about it. "Is this not great news?"

The man sighed heavily as he reached forward and handed me the parchment he held. I grabbed it and unrolled it, and as I read it, I felt my heart begin to sink into my stomach. Not only did Skjol find the location of the leader of the Silver Hand. But he intended to go after them as well. He wanted to kill them for the glory of the Companions, and to do this, he left alone with nobody to aid him.

I nearly tore the parchment as I clenched my hands tightly. "That fool…" I growled as I once more realized that he may be doing this to prove his worth to the Kodlak. Throwing the parchment aside, I glared down at Kodlak Whitemane. "You know where he goes?"

He nodded solemnly and told me where Skjol had gone in search for this leader. I knew him by reputation, and he was as brutal as he was thorough. He left a message in every one of us he killed by mounting their heads on pikes. The main problem was that he had mostly only gotten younger recruits who had just joined the circle among their own. There were other clans, of course, who would have members of their families missing as well. But as far as I knew, this Krev the Skinner had never faced one of the more powerful members of our circle. So, I had no way of knowing whether Skjor was strong enough to take him on his own.

After the Kodlak had given me his location, I sprinted up the stairs and burst into the great hall. Vilkas and Farkas had accepted a mission in the rift, which meant there were only two of us. But with my skills and her power, we might be more than enough for these monster hunters. I approached her and she looked up to me with that passive expression of hers. Our eyes locked, and she knew it was time to go.

We found the place, and immediately my blood began to boil over as I saw the severed heads of wolfkin set on spikes in front of the bunker. Whoever they were, they were young. Too young to have to deal with these killers. My companion appeared to share my consternation as she reached up and gripped her greatsword.

As soon as we entered the grounds, we were set on by their guards. Arrows pelted the snow around us, and a blast of magic fire hit my companion and sent her rolling backwards. Pulling my bow free, I loosed an arrow and buried it in one of the archer's throats. I retreated back out of the gate as more arrows rained down from the ramparts of the building.

I closed my eyes and listened. One, two, three, four. Four arrow shots pelted the wall behind me and one blast of fire. Four archers, one spellcaster. The most immediate danger was the mage as their fire could do more damage than the arrows. I looked over to check on my companion and found that she was no longer anywhere to be seen. Her impression in the snow from flying backwards was all that was left, leaving me to wonder where she had gotten to. But ignoring that thought for now, I turned away from my protection and aimed once more.

The mage moved to cast a spell, his hand raised and aimed directly at me. I fired, causing the arrow to shoot through his hand and sink into his skull. He stood still for a moment before leaning forward and falling from the ramparts into the snow below. I ducked behind cover once more, but I didn't hear any arrows deflecting off the wall. Turning, I looked up at the wall and saw the silent giant with one of the archers impaled on her large blade.

Forgetting my shelter for a moment, I watched as she used his dangling body as a shield to protect herself from the arrows of the others and made her way closer to them. As they began backpedaling, I pulled another arrow free of my quiver and loosed it into one's chest. The man gasped, then fell over as she continued to corner the last of them.

At this point, he threw his bow down and tried to draw a silver weapon. But my companion, without changing her expression at all, dropped the dead man along with her own weapon. Reaching forward, she gripped his hands so fiercely that he cried out in pain, then the silver blade turned upwards towards his own head. He yelled, he cried, he tried to get away. But nothing could stop her as she reached up and gripped him by the back of the neck. Using crushing force, she pushed her hands together, causing the blade to slice through the bottom of his chin and up into his skull. When he stopped struggling, she finally threw him onto the edge of the rampart, the butt of the sword hitting the ground and driving the blade all the way through.

I smirked lightly at the display as it now resembled what they did to our kind when we were killed. She gripped her sword handle once more and ripped the blade clean before jumping down and landing directly in front of the door into the bunker. I met up with her and gave her a nod of approval. "A fitting end for such cruel people." She nodded back, then grabbed the door and opened it, allowing us inside. As we entered, I growled as I noticed that there were gates in our path. "Cowards. They must have locked the place down after Skjor charged in." I looked around for any way of opening the gates, knowing that the switches were likely further in.

But I stopped when I noticed her set her sword aside and grip the iron bars herself. She began exerting her awesome strength and suddenly, as her corded muscle flexed, the gate began to rise. Realizing her plan, I quickly moved over and as soon as an opening was available, I slid underneath. Afterwards, it took seconds to find the switch to open it for her.

We continued this form of teamwork as we carved our way through the inhabitants. Their silver weapons were as paper before her skyforged steel great sword. I watched as one man held up his blade to block her full swing, only to see the silver blade snap in two while hers rushed clean through his entire neck. It didn't take us long to start seeing grotesque reminders of who we were fighting. One of the rooms had skins of dark fur hanging on the walls and a full grown lycan hanging from a hook, its blood pooled into a bucket below it.

I approached and sniffed it gently before shaking my head. "Nobody I know."

She eyed me curiously. "Are there others?"

Nodding, I sighed to myself. "There are other clans, though they are less visible than we are. And then there are the ferals. They lose their humanity and embrace the gift fully, becoming nothing but a hunting and killing revenant. This could be anyone."

Having her question answered, she began to move forward, and I followed. We cut through more of the bastards on our way to a large room with more horrors that extended beyond seeing our own impaled. The woman looked around the room in disgust as she stood among the bodies of the fallen Silver Hand, her expression darkening as she saw what we faced.

"Should you ever need to justify this slaughter, remember this," I said as I waved my hands towards a wall with regular citizens hanging from meat hooks, their bodies pale as their blood sat in a bucket beneath them. "They do not just want us dead, they need us dead because our goal is to stop all of this."

She looked to me and nodded firmly, her resolve burning in her eyes. For a brief moment, I thought I saw her eyes shift as if she were about to transform once more. But instead, she continued to move forward. Along another darkened hallway, I heard her voice question me. "Who is this leader Skjol was after?"

Snorting at the memory of the man, I continued to follow her, allowing her to take the lead. "Krev the Skinner. His name was earned, not given as you have seen. He is of the undead, and is not to be underestimated," I told her as we continued forth.

But it did not take long to prove my point, as we entered a room with several Silver Hand all aiming arrows at us. And the middle of them sat the root of the scum himself, Krev. He sat on a stool, smiling at me as we entered, knowing his archers could score a kill within seconds. "Welcome to my lair, mutt," he grunted as he smiled with those wickedly pointed teeth.

I glared at him; my own bow lowered. "Where is Skjol?"

He chuckled to me, and to my own horror, he tossed another head at me. I looked down and saw the lycan head roll to a stop, its empty eyes staring up at me, one of them scarred in the same place Skjol had been injured. I felt my blood boil within me as his death sunk in. "Sorry, he got a little out of hand, so we had to put him down." The skinner then turned to his men. "Make sure there aren't too many holes in them. I want to make a coat from this Circle garbage."

My companion immediately grabbed me and put herself between me and them. I heard four thuds as arrows sank into her flesh, her growls of pain in my ear. As she held my back to her chest, she lowered her head and whispered to me. "Kill him, I will take the others."

I simply nodded, and as she continued to protect me, I felt her body morphing against my back. Unlike before, it took seconds before she was once again towering over me, her massive arms gripping me to make sure I hadn't been hit.

Releasing me, she turned and let out a roar that sent the Silver Hand scrambling backwards. The arrogant look was even gone from Krev's face as he now faced the monstrosity of her true form. Reaching forward, she grabbed one of the scrambling undead and swung him like a club, slamming him into a stone pillar so hard his body contorted and the sound of bones breaking could be heard.

One particularly brave soldier rushed forward with a silver blade, but he too stood no chance as she reached out and gripped his head. She stared Krev dead in the eyes as her hand slowly clamped down and crushed his cranium, helmet and all with his screams echoing around the room. The two other henchmen tried to turn and run for the door, but she rushed forward and slammed Krev aside as she gave chase.

I drew my blade and charged at the skinner. He managed to get to his feet long enough to block my attacks, but I could tell his thoughts. He knew he was dead. He fought desperately, swinging too hard and missing as he tried to get away. Another of his men's screams echoed from the hallway before their body came flying into the room and slammed into the stool where he once sat.

He looked away and lost any chance her had for victory. Spinning around, I slashed through his arm holding the blade. He yelled in anguish as I spun again and removed his other arm. Reaching forward, I kicked him onto his back. Blood poured from his wounds as he tried to scramble backwards, but his efforts were fruitless.

I stepped forward and slammed my boot into his stomach, making him gasp in pain. "I will end your life with no transformation. I will end your life with my bare hands," I said as rage filled me once more. Dropping my weapon, I raised my arm high before thrusting the blade of my hand into his chest. He coughed up blood instead of crying in pain. But his pain fed me, empowered me. Sliding into his ribs, I gripped his rapidly beating heart. Finally, I gave him one last look. One second of him knowing that I held his life in my hands, and that he was about to die. One second to enjoy that fear before I roared and crushed the organ, destroying it for good.

Krev coughed as more blood poured from his mouth. Finally, his head turned, and the life left his eyes. I rose, my arm covered in his lifeblood as the last of the men fled back into the room in panic. I looked up in time to see my companion slam through the door, ripping it from its hinges and sending it crashing into the room. She closed the distance between them and slashed mercilessly with her claws. He stopped as giant gashes of blood in the shame of an X formed on his body. Then, he fell forward, his entire body falling apart and rolling down the stairs.

She turned and looked to me as I knelt next to Skjol's body. "They overwhelmed him. He…" I started as I let out of shaky sigh. "He was a fool to come alone. Even as strong as he was, their numbers took him down." I stared at him for a long moment, long enough for my companion to transform back into her human body. I finally looked up at her naked form, noting that the muscle didn't just extend to her arms, but her entire body. "I will stay here and find any of the rest. You can go."

She crouched next to me, her body flexing like a sabercat ready to pounce. But she didn't pounce. Instead, she placed her strong hand onto my shoulder. "Skjol died from being alone. I will leave you to your grief, but I will be outside if you need me," she said firmly, making me chuckle to myself. Finally, I nodded and watched as she left the room, her massive frame ducking as she walked through the doorless opening.

She was not only wise and strong, but caring. Caring in a way I hadn't felt in a long time, even from those among the Circle. I prayed that she knew how much I appreciated her help, and her concern for my welfare. A true shield-sister she would be.