Chapter CXIV – Revelations

The sun was slowly setting on the horizon, letting sharp rays fall onto their campsite, broken by the cliffs enveloping them.

Aeyrin was getting increasingly nervous. Night would be upon them only in a couple of hours and there was no sign of the twins yet. She kept fidgeting, pacing around the camp and trying to think of what to do when the night actually came. Maybe she could go inside the pass. At least there she would likely only kill bandits if she turned. If there even were any. But nothing guaranteed that she wouldn't find her way back outside and to Bishop. She couldn't let that happen.

Bishop was oddly calm the entire time. He tried to comfort her a few more times, but when it became clear that she was more interested in wallowing in her rising panic, he instead focused on their usual ritual, setting up camp and making them some dinner. His ease was staggering. She didn't understand it at all. How could he be so calm? She could practically rip him to shreds at any second! Why wasn't he afraid of that?

Maybe he didn't realize what it meant yet. Did he ever even fight a werewolf? Not that she had much experience with them, but she did fight that… pack once with Vuaerion and the Vigilants. They were vicious creatures. Monsters.

Like she was now.

"You wanna taste this for me, sweetness?" he tore her away from her pacing as he pointed to the pot on the fire with the rabbit stew. She was pretty sure he didn't need any help telling whether the food needed any more seasoning or anything like that. He was just trying to distract her.

"I can't even think about food right now," she shook her head somberly. She still felt sick. Not as sick as she had back when she had that horrid taste in her mouth, but still too sick to even have a small taste of anything.

"I'm sure they'll be here soon," he gave her a reassuring smile.

He didn't know that! He couldn't know that. This could all turn very ugly at any second. She didn't know what would prompt the transformation. Was it the appearance of a moon in the sky? Weren't the moons there anyway, regardless of time of day? She had no idea how any of this worked.

But just as he had said it, a sound echoed through the plateau. A tell-tale scraping of a metal door.

Bishop rose to his feet by the campfire and she quickly rushed to his side. They could already see the two brothers in their black armor approaching.

The moment the two Companions spotted Bishop there, however, their hands instantly shot towards their weapons, almost in a simultaneous motion.

"Don't you fucking dare!" Aeyrin yelled at them. Gods, that made her so furious. How dare they?! They did this to her. Maybe not them specifically, but they knew and they kept this from her. They were monsters, just like Aela and Skjor. And they dared to even insinuate that Bishop was the one who should be under their sword.

Bishop raised his brows at Aeyrin at her exclamation. He almost startled at that. Fuck, she must have been really pissed, not that he would blame her. But he didn't even remember the last time he had heard her swear. If ever. She never swore. Unless he made her beg him to fuck her in the throes of passion, but that didn't really count. It was kind of touching how mad she got at the brothers' actions. He himself had definitely expected a hostile reception.

"Pup," Vilkas gave her a chastising look, but that only served to anger her more.

"No! None of that! Hands off your weapons, now!" she barked. This was really making her blood boil. They knew why they were there and still they dared to turn this around to getting their stupid bounty?! She made a point to look as threatening as possible, though that didn't take much effort just then – the rage did most of the work for her.

The brothers obeyed and let their hands down harmlessly. Maybe they were worried she would Shout. They didn't know that she couldn't. Or they just didn't want to fight her, no matter the price on Bishop's head.

"We're in Falkreath anyway," Bishop scoffed at them, though granted, they could just kill him here and claim whatever they wanted after.

"Like that matters, mongrel," Vilkas growled back at him. "Besides, isn't there a bounty just like that here?"

He knew about that? Fuck. That wasn't good. He would have to dig really fucking deep to find out.

"I don't care where we are, you're not laying a finger on him," Aeyrin threw Vilkas a death-glare. He looked really disturbed by that. Good.

"Pup, even if you think you know who he is, I guarantee you, you don't know the half of it," Vilkas tried to reason with her.

"Just give it a rest already, that's not why we're here," Bishop groaned. Nothing he thought he knew would make any difference whatsoever. Aeyrin knew the worst of the shit in his past already. And they should really concentrate on the werewolf thing. She had been dealing with the uncertainty long enough.

"No," Aeyrin shook her head. "That's fine. Let's deal with this." She was so sick of this. Sick of worrying about Bishop when the Companions were after him. As much as she hated Aela just now, at least she didn't really think she would go after Bishop. These two would. It had to end. "What exactly is your problem?!" She turned back to Vilkas angrily.

"He's a wanted bandit, pup," Farkas gave her an incredulous look, as if it was obvious that Bishop should die for this bounty. No matter the circumstances.

"Did you even see the bounty?" she scoffed. She didn't even let Bishop speak on his own behalf, she couldn't help it. The rage was forcing her to speak, constantly with an angry, raised voice. "He was a child when it was made! And you seriously want to hunt him down for that?"

"It's not that simple, pup," Vilkas shook his head at her.

"No. I guess it's not," she growled, throwing another sharp look at him. "Did you try to kill him back in Brittleshin Pass?"

Vilkas seemed taken aback at the accusation, but his eyes narrowed at Bishop in a second. It was clear that he wasn't going to refute it. "He was just as much a criminal back then."

"How the fuck would you know? You didn't even know about the bounty back then," Bishop scoffed. Weak excuse. For whatever reason, Vilkas had wanted him dead for a long time.

"I knew exactly who you were the second I saw you, mongrel!" Vilkas yelled suddenly as palpable anger welled in him too. His brother stood by his side tensely, but he was looking at Bishop with just as much hatred.

He knew? How the fuck did he know? Nobody knew back then. Even if he was looking extensively into some old bounties for his hunts, he wouldn't just recognize Bishop this easily from it, would he? What the fuck was going on? And how long had he known? Did he…

Fuck.

"You're the one who sent those fucking bounties out?!" Bishop bellowed. This fucking asshole?! This whole time, Solitude, Riften, he was the one sending them?!

"What? 'Send'?" Vilkas narrowed his eyes. "I didn't send the bounties anywhere. I didn't even see them back then. And why would I? We knew about them. Why would we want competition?"

Fuck, that made sense. If they knew about the bounties, sending them out like that would only make it less likely that they would get to claim them. Vilkas probably didn't try more times and less subtly only because he was afraid of angering Aeyrin. But that ship had likely sailed now when he did have competition.

But who the fuck was sending these then?

And how did these nitwits even learn of them?

"So you knew about them so you tried to kill him for the money before anyone else could?" Aeyrin scoffed. That was just pathetic. Vilkas wouldn't even care how much it would hurt her, apparently. She thought they were friends. But those naïve thoughts were long gone now.

"We don't care about the money," Farkas scoffed.

"What? Then why the fuck would you try to kill me?" Bishop growled. How was this about anything but that fucking money?

"We don't care about the bounty or the money. We knew who you are. Thrice-Banished scum," Vilkas spat at him before he turned his eyes to Aeyrin. "Pup, we didn't wanna hurt you. We didn't know what was going on. You brought him to our home, acted like you wanted nothing to do with him, but still… you allowed him by your side. We knew what he is. We didn't know how else to help you."

"'Help me'? By killing someone I cared about?" Aeyrin scoffed at him incredulously. "You knew about the bounty, he was a child back then. Did you even know what part he had in any of it?" Meaning no part. How could anyone hold him responsible for that? At least for what the people of Skyrim knew.

"We know what the Thrice-Banished were doing," Farkas scowled at Bishop again. "We know all of it. Not just here. Everywhere."

"It's a bandit clan," Bishop scoffed. Sort of, anyway. Of course they did bad shit. And he did too, sure, but they couldn't have known what he was personally involved in. Why would they go so viciously after someone like him with what they could know? Bishop doubted that they had ever pursued any other former bandit so adamantly.

"Bandits don't dare to attack the Companions!" Vilkas barked at him with fury in his eyes. "But they did. They attacked honorable warriors, just for the challenge of it."

Bishop raised his brows at Vilkas. The clan attacked the Companions? He didn't know about that. He didn't remember anything like that, obviously. He was a bit young to remember the havoc they wreaked back in Skyrim. It was kind of impressive though. He wouldn't even think Thorn's men would dare to do that. The Companions were formidable opponents and like the Vigilants or other paladins, the bandits rather avoided them than risk losing so many men. It was rarely worth it.

"Our father's death is on your hands," Vilkas growled hatefully.

Right. Now the hatred made a bit more sense. It was still misdirected though.

"'My hands'?" Bishop scoffed. "Did he get killed by a four-year-old?"

"You fucking shut your mouth, you…" Vilkas snapped and his hand almost darted to his back again for his claymore, but Farkas laid a more collected and calm hand on his shoulder.

"Brother," he sighed, trying to diffuse the anger a bit.

"I never killed a Companion," Bishop sighed as well. This was so fucking stupid. Why would they think that he had anything to do with their father's death?

"Torban did," Vilkas growled. Well… that did sound like something Torban would do. "We saw it all. We barely managed to hide. He would have slaughtered us too. We were just kids then. But his own whelps helped him readily enough when he ambushed us."

Of course they did. If they didn't, they would have paid the price soon enough. Disobeying Torban wasn't exactly an option when Bishop was so young. It was… a bit too much to handle his rage for a child.

"Vilkas shielded my eyes so I wouldn't see," Farkas added with a forlorn expression on his face. "But he never forgot that bastard's face. He recognized you right away," he frowned at Bishop.

That fucking family resemblance would one day be the death of him. But it still wasn't Bishop's fucking fault! There was no way in Oblivion that anyone with half a brain would actually mistake him for Torban, based on the age alone.

"And how is that my fault?" Bishop growled. He should probably be used to being blamed for Torban's shit, but it still pissed him off to no end.

"Maybe it's not. Not this," Vilkas scowled. "Maybe you were one of those fucking whelps helping him, maybe not. I don't know. But I know what your fucking clan is capable of. We hunted Torban for years, ever since we could stand a chance against him. We heard a lot of fucked up shit about what your clan did."

Shit, that must have been one disturbing research they were doing. No wonder they hated the whole clan. Still… Bishop was pissed just from the fact that he was still considered part of all this shit. Not just by them. By everyone. Those fucking bounties included and all those fuckers in Whiterun too.

"And then you show up at our doorstep," Vilkas scoffed. "For a second, I thought it was actually him, walking into our halls. But I knew what kind of monster you are. And I finally had a chance to get back at that fucking bastard. We couldn't find him and kill him, but sure as the Void, we can make him lose something that mattered, just as he did to us."

What. The. Fuck?

"'Mattered'?" Bishop sputtered. He almost had the urge to actually laugh. "You fucking think I mattered to that asshole? You think he cared about any of us?" Torban never cared about anything but himself. Bishop was pretty fucking sure that he hated most of his kids' guts. "You claim you understand what kind of a man he was, but you have no fucking idea." It didn't matter what rumors the brothers had heard about whatever Torban did to his victims. Nothing was as bad as what he was doing to his own family every day. "And nothing you do to me will ever piss him off. Not just because he would never give a shit about me, but he's also too dead to care," he scoffed. All this shit, this fucking obsessive hunt for them, and for what? To piss off a dead man.

"Torban died?" Vilkas's scowl finally disappeared, replaced by shock. Bishop wasn't sure if the man was relieved or disappointed by the news. "How?"

What a question.

"Too fucking quickly for my tastes," Bishop growled. "I should have made him suffer more for all that shit he'd done."

Everyone went silent for a while. Vilkas and Farkas didn't look like they knew how to take the news. But as Bishop concentrated on their reaction, Aeyrin's voice suddenly startled him. It felt like he hadn't heard her speak for a long time. She sounded much calmer now.

"You killed him?" Her voice bore nothing but surprise. It was kind of a relief. No judgment or anything. Bishop knew that if anyone, she would understand.

Until now, he never even realized that he hadn't told her that yet. She knew that Torban was dead, but not the specifics. Sometimes it felt like he told her most of the bad shit from his past, but he never really talked much about his family. He hated talking about them, even more than talking about Thorn.

"Me and Jules did, yeah," he answered her with a brief nod. "Right before we ran back to Skyrim."

"You… killed your own father?" Farkas looked at him in shock.

"Don't fucking say that like it's a bad thing now!" Bishop growled. Killing Torban could never be a bad thing, no matter who did it. "You spent your fucking lives looking for that asshole, talking about all the atrocities he did, and you fucking judge me for wiping his scumbag ass off the face of Nirn?!" They really needed to make up their fucking minds. Or maybe they were just intent on hating Bishop, no matter what.

"I… I know… just… why would you kill your own family?" Farkas shook his head. He didn't actually look like he was trying to judge Bishop for it, he did look really confused. As if the idea that Bishop could hate his father instead of being one of his 'helpful whelps' never even crossed his mind.

"Who knew you shits were so fucking naïve?" Bishop scoffed. "You think all families are all mushy, all proud of each other and following in each other's' footsteps and all that fucking shit you Companions revel in? I killed a bastard who would daily beat the shit out of me and all my siblings. A bastard that killed my brother. A bastard who used us for his schemes, getting us arrested and beaten instead of putting his own sorry ass on the line. Don't fucking talk to me about family!"

Aeyrin threw Bishop a silent supportive look. It was quite staggering to see the contrast of how much her face softened when she looked at him and how the scowl returned whenever she looked back at the brothers.

"Fine, you did one favor to the world by killing that fucker," Vilkas growled. He was still glaring daggers at Bishop. "Bandits kill each other. Nothing new there. But you claim to be different in the end? Torban's not the only one we heard of. We knew that everyone was in Cyrodiil, one was on Solstheim, and then there were some here, in Skyrim. Didn't you say that you ran back here?"

Fuck, Bishop had a bad feeling about where this was going. They really sounded like they did their research on the clan.

"We also happen to know that there were these bandit clans," Vilkas's face darkened even more as he spoke. "Dangerous shits, all over the south. It's surprisingly easy to get rumors out of bandits when you frighten them enough, you know? And so we also know that all of the Thrice-Banished that were known to be here were a part of this. That wouldn't happen to be you, would it?"

Bishop only glared back at Vilkas. There wasn't really any point in denying this. It was not as if Bishop would ever let them claim their precious bounty, but he always thought himself that, no matter how young he had been back then, the price on his head wasn't exactly unwarranted. Not after everything he had done when he obeyed Torban. And definitely not after his time in Thorn's clans.

"Pup," Vilkas turned back towards Aeyrin, prompting her to scowl at him again just by addressing her. "I'm not sure you understand what kind of shit we're talking about here. He's a…"

"A what? A monster?" she barked at him with palpable disdain in her voice. "Like… I don't know… a werewolf?"

"It's not the same thing," Vilkas murmured almost inaudibly. There was guilt etched on his face at that very moment.

"No?" she scoffed. "Because I guarantee you, I know much more about 'this kind of shit' than you do, despite all the… sleuthing you apparently did. I don't see how you can judge him, being what you are. What… what I am."

"Pup, it is not the same. And we aren't monsters. Neither are you," Vilkas shook his head at her. He still looked angry, but at the same time there was a regretful tone in his voice. "He chose that life. He chose to ambush, kidnap and kill people for a living. Innocent people. How can you compare that?"

"Did I kill anyone last night? 'Innocent people'." She scowled at them, but her question was only met with guilty, uncomfortable silence. She knew the answer to that. Even if Bishop only told her that people were 'hurt', deep down she knew what that meant. And even if she had any doubt left, the twins' silence was telling. "Have you ever killed an innocent?"

"It's… hard, in the beginning," Farkas gave her a regretful look. "But being what we are, it lets us help many more people down the line."

Aeyrin couldn't help but scoff at that. Excuses, but if that was how they wanted to spin it, they were just digging themselves deeper. "And why do you assume he's different then? Since you know all about the bandits in the south, I'm sure you've heard the name Thorn before," she couldn't help the hateful tone her voice got when she spoke that name. "Do you know who killed him? That bandit menace in the south?"

Vilkas and Farkas shared an uncertain look before they both looked at Bishop with a hint of doubt on their faces.

"Do you think he could have done that without knowing his tricks, without being on the inside?" Aeyrin scowled.

"Are you trying to claim now that he 'infiltrated' bandit clans or some shit? If he told you that, pup, you're really naïve for believing that," Vilkas scoffed.

"No," Aeyrin shook her head. She had no illusions about that. "I'm saying that he didn't choose that life for himself any more than I chose this… thing you did to me. He didn't join a bandit clan for the fun of killing innocent people. Some people aren't given a lot of options. And his past let him 'help many more people down the line'. I don't see any difference. Except for the fact that what he was is in the past. Unlike you." Unlike me.

Her words made Bishop feel strange. How did she do this? How the fuck did she make his banditry sound so… noble? No matter what, nobody had ever managed to make him feel better about the shit in his past. Not that many people had tried, but still. Not like she did. He wasn't sure if it was a good thing. He did do awful shit in his past. There was no question about it. But he still couldn't help but feel better, if only for the fact that he had someone like her who didn't actually judge him for it now. Not anymore at least.

The brothers remained uncomfortably silent again and after what felt like a long time, Aeyrin let out a resigned sigh.

"We can't change our pasts and we've all done some… bad things. You say you don't care about the money and Torban is dead. Can you just, please, let this go already?"

"We can't do anything about the bounty," Vilkas shook his head at her.

"No one's fucking asking you to," Bishop scoffed. He just wanted them to leave him the fuck alone already. The bounty was bad enough without having the Companions, apparently werewolves, after him.

The brothers shared another look, a longer one this time, until they finally both nodded their heads.

"Fine, pup," Vilkas growled. "We won't try to claim that bounty. For your sake."

That was fine. She didn't care why they did it, just as long as she didn't have to worry incessantly about her supposed 'friends' killing the man she loved.

"Let's finally get to why we're here then," Bishop nodded before he inclined his head back towards the mountains at his back with the sun still shining at their cusp. This fucking shit-show had gone on for long enough already.

They needed to know what Aeyrin's new predicament meant for her.

"Pup, we didn't want this to happen," Vilkas let out a regretful sigh.

The mood had shifted considerably since the initial reception. Everything felt much calmer and less volatile, but it didn't help in the slightest to make Aeyrin feel better about any of this. She would have almost preferred to continue yelling. She was still so angry. About everything. But she needed information out of them too and that was much easier to get this way.

The four of them had moved to the camp and sat down by the fire, as if to accentuate the less hostile environment even more. And besides, the food had been left on the fire for way too long already. Bishop and Aeyrin shared some with the brothers as Bishop had made too much anyway. He didn't even realize it and without stopping to think about it, he made enough for Karnwyr as well. But Karnwyr was not coming.

Because of them.

"We tried to talk her out of it, we really did," Vilkas continued to explain. "Well… not at first, I guess."

Aeyrin promptly gave him a scowl at those words. Was she supposed to be grateful now that they changed their minds about ruining her life? Not like it helped anyway.

"This… this is how it's always been done, you know? For a long time. Those that were strong enough, clever enough, they were chosen to join the Circle. And then they were offered the gift."

Farkas scowled at his brother's wording and he looked like he wanted to interject, but Vilkas stopped him with a calm raising of his hand.

"'Gift'?" Aeyrin scoffed incredulously instead. How was this a 'gift'? It was a nightmare.

"We thought as much," Vilkas nodded. "No one has ever refused. Not to our knowledge at least."

"Seriously? No one has ever refused becoming this abomination?" Aeyrin spat. She found that really hard to believe. And it certainly didn't seem like they had no experience forcing it on people.

"We don't usually recruit people like you," Vilkas sighed. "It's mostly the same. Hunters, mercenaries. No one with your background, that's for certain. And it's supposed to be offered when we are certain the junior member will accept. When it's clear that the member will not refuse the power that it gives you."

They kept talking about this. 'Power'. Where did they get that idea? She had rarely felt as powerless as she did now.

"When we found out who you are, we were all excited about the prospect," Vilkas continued to explain. "The Dragonborn, one of us. We even thought it would help you against the dragons. But it wasn't the same as it was with us. You wanted to leave Jorrvaskr, you had your own quests to pursue. We knew we might not be able to be there to guide you fully through the transition and Farkas and I started to have doubts. And some time later, it became pretty clear that this would be the last thing you wanted."

"Remember when you told us about the vampires near Morthal?" Farkas interjected. "The way you talked about them, we knew that there would be no swaying you. And by that time, Kodlak was already trying…"

"In due time, brother," Vilkas interrupted him before he could finish the sentence. He turned towards Aeyrin promptly again after. "That day, we had a meeting and Farkas and I tried to convince Aela and Skjor that it was a bad idea. That we should just leave things the way they were, help you out with some contracts if you needed money and be glad to have you as a friend and an ally. But those two had… different ideas."

"I don't think Aela even cared as much about the Dragonborn thing as she did about your upbringing," Farkas pondered. "I think she just… wanted to make you see what it meant, that it was a 'blessing', despite what the temple taught you."

The way he said that word… 'blessing'. Aeyrin was starting to wonder whether he even felt this way.

"We couldn't agree," Vilkas sighed. "Kodlak asked Aela to consider our perspective, but the Harbinger isn't exactly… in charge as one would imagine. He is our advisor, an honored and experienced Companion. Aela didn't have to listen to him, but he tried. Me and Farkas thought it might not convince her though, so we… tried a different approach."

"You tried to keep me away from her," Aeyrin scowled. They were always spinning some strange stories, always lying. All of them. She never knew what this was really about while Aela tried to pull her in one direction and the brothers in the other.

"Why didn't you try last night?" Bishop growled. If they had just told her the truth in the first place, she would have stayed away from her own volition. But… it was a bit understandable that they were wary of revealing their secret to Aeyrin, knowing how she reacted to such things. At the very least, they should have tried harder. They should have kicked her out of the Companions or something.

"We thought that she left," Farkas sighed.

"After Aela caught you in Whiterun, she returned to tell us what happened," Vilkas elaborated. "She said that she let you go, but that you left the Hold to get away from us. And she said that she promised the pup to give her a message from you – that she should follow. We thought she left Whiterun to go after you."

And instead, they were both in Whiterun the entire time. They were certainly secretive about it though, it was no wonder that the brothers had no idea.

"When she and Skjor returned today, they told us what happened," he continued. "None of it was how they imagined it, even though we have warned them about it all. They may have expected you to have reservations, but they expected them to be gone by the morning. They seemed… regretful about their actions after they saw your reaction. And nobody was supposed to get hurt."

"Three werewolves running through a city and nobody was supposed to get hurt?" Aeyrin scoffed. Aela and Skjor definitely knew that someone might get in their way, they just didn't care.

"There is a corridor leading out from the Underforge and onto the plains. Apparently once you turned, they tried to usher you through it, but you ran off instantly in the other direction. And they didn't exactly close the entrance behind you all… so…" he let out a regretful sigh.

That was it? They forgot to close the 'door' and now people were dead?

"They didn't seem overly broken up over that," Aeyrin spat disdainfully. If that was just a horrible mistake, they certainly didn't act like it was.

"They said they didn't tell you about the people that got hurt, not to upset you. They probably tried to make it easier on you by acting like nothing happened," Vilkas lowered his eyes. "Pup, the transformations… they're not all the same. Some are more in control, some get more feral. This… wasn't the first time we had to deal with this." His eyes covertly looked at Farkas, but everybody noticed the look despite that. Farkas himself noticed the attention directed at him.

"Mine… went similarly," he sighed. "Even though I accepted the… ritual or something… I did hurt a few people on the outskirts. Farkas had some theories about that, but… I don't know. I don't understand this stuff."

"Farkas was turned only a few weeks after me," Vilkas explained. "But it was while Secunda was full. Just like with you."

"Does Aela know about this theory of yours?" Aeyrin scowled. She still felt like all this bloodshed was somehow intentional. Or maybe… maybe she just desperately wanted to blame Aela instead of herself.

"She does, but she doesn't believe it's true," Vilkas nodded. "Secunda always has an… effect on us when it's full. Messer has the opposite one, it mellows us more, sometimes to the point that we don't even feel like turning and hunting. Kodlak and I… we studied some things about different strains of lycanthropy. It seems like each reacts differently to the moons and that each has a different course of how the transformations go. And even within the strain, everyone reacts a little differently."

"So you have no idea what can happen to me?" Aeyrin's voice wavered. This wasn't something for which she could just wait and see.

"No, that's not what I meant," Vilkas gave her a small reassuring smile. "It's just that there are different progressions to this. Some of us manage to control the transformations quickly. We become aware of what we do and capable of controlling our actions in our werewolf forms. But for some, it takes a bit longer. It took Farkas several months."

Months? And it could happen anytime? That was a nightmare.

"And other things take time too, like the sharpened senses," Vilkas continued to explain calmly. "Like now, do you feel like you can smell better, see better in the dark?"

She didn't feel like anything improved at all, though granted, she didn't see the dark since this happened. But there was nothing good about this.

She shook her head briskly in response. Despite his calm tone, Vilkas wasn't exactly easing her mind.

"That takes time too. It takes time before you… become more attuned to the wolf spirit. Become one with what you are."

'Become one'? She didn't want to 'become one' with this monster! She wanted nothing to do with this!

"Is there a cure?" Bishop interjected quickly. She could already see Aeyrin panicking again. This wasn't helping. She needed at least a sliver of hope that this wasn't forever.

The twins shared a brief meaningful look before Vilkas started to speak again.

"Look, when we accepted this transformation, we were all thinking about the strength it would give us, about the connection to one another. We would belong to something grander, something sacred. Aela was always talking about all of us meeting the other Companions after our time was over here and joining in the eternal hunts in the Hunting Grounds. It sounded… nice."

That sounded nice? To spend eternity in Oblivion, performing for some sick Prince?

"It's not as black and white as you think." Farkas must have noticed her horrified expression. "It's a good life… or afterlife for some. Aela says Hircine values his chosen hunters."

Aeyrin couldn't help but scoff. Of course he valued them, as one values their playthings. This was not what she wanted, this just sounded like the worst fate imaginable to her.

"But as he's getting older, Kodlak started to… have doubts," Vilkas spoke again. "He always hoped to spend his eternity in Shor's halls with the Nord heroes of old, but in his youth, he hadn't given this that much thought when he was offered the gift. He calls it a curse now. And… some of what he says… it makes sense."

"We've been thinking about this a lot too," Farkas nodded. "I don't really understand how any of the afterlife stuff works, but… I can't imagine wanting to spend my life always on the hunt when I'm Kodlak's age."

They were thinking about curing themselves too? That still didn't answer the most important question, but it made Aeyrin feel a little better that she wasn't all alone in this, that they wouldn't just try to convince her to accept this.

"I've been helping Kodlak search for a cure," Vilkas smiled softly. "There are plenty of rumors around and, going through some old annals of the Companions, we found out that some of our Shield-siblings tried to cure themselves too before. And even succeeded. There is a way."

"What is it?" Aeyrin let out a gasp along with her words. That one sentence made such an incredible weight lift off her. There was a way. It wasn't just rumors. Vuaerion was wrong.

"We don't know yet. We need to find out much more. But, pup, no matter how long it takes, there is a way. And we even found some records of Companions curing their Shield-siblings after they have passed, freeing them from the Hunting Grounds as they wished."

That was such a relief. Even if something horrible befell her, it didn't have to mean that she would be trapped in that place forever.

"If we cure ourselves, we could cure our father too," Farkas smiled. Maybe it was what was pulling them towards the Hunting Grounds in the first place.

"There's a lot that we still don't know," Vilkas sighed. "But we are working on this, pup. And when we find out what to do, you'll be the first to know."

That was more than she had hoped for. She thought that she would be cursed with this forever. Now that she knew that it wasn't inevitable, she would make damn sure that she got cured. And anyone else who wanted out of this horror as well.

But there was still one more issue that needed to be addressed. The most pressing one actually.

"What happens to me now? When do I… is it random?" she asked, unable to hide the fear in her voice.

"Not exactly," Vilkas shook his head. "With our strain, we have all experienced at least one full Secunda period when we were not in control. It happens every night during the full moon. Three nights. That means that you will turn tonight and tomorrow as well."

Gods. That was bad. Two more nights. And next month it would be the same, unless she got cured by then. She needed to get far away from Bishop. And everyone. Fast.

"When?" Aeyrin let out a shuddering breath.

"When Secunda reaches its highest point. Midnight. And it lasts until it disappears from the skies. This season, that's after seven or eight hours," Vilkas explained.

Alright. She had some time. She had no idea how fast and far she could run through all those hours in her… werewolf form. It seemed like nowhere was safe.

"After some time, you will be able to control it," Vilkas gave her a reassuring smile. "By now, we can turn whenever we want and we can control our actions fully. We don't have to turn at all either. Secunda is… tempting, but it is no longer that overwhelming force that makes us transform."

That was… a little comforting. She didn't have to turn into that monster. But… that would take time. She needed to know what to do now.

"You said Farkas was… feral. You said you all couldn't control it for a time. What did you do?" They had to have a way, didn't they? Vilkas made it sound like casualties weren't on their daily schedule. They had to have a way to control the mayhem.

"Yes. Sometimes we would lock ourselves in the Underforge through the night," Vilkas nodded. There are small slots there to open the stone, they can only fit a finger. A werewolf is too big to open that place. I think that is why it was built like that – as a safe place to keep the newly turned from wreaking havoc."

"But we thought that's not ideal for you," Farkas nodded at her sympathetically. That was very true. Spending three nights every month in Whiterun was really not tempting. And sometimes she couldn't exactly help where she was at certain times.

"It's not like we didn't have to improvise sometimes. It took Farkas several months to take control. We had another way," Vilkas smiled.

"Hm-hm, we brought you something." Farkas reached for the pack by his side and began rummaging around.

It barely took a second before something began clinking in his hands and he promptly pulled out the object he had sought. He presented it to her as if it was some kind of a thoughtful gift.

Chains. Heavy, thick and sturdy chains.

Aeyrin's breath hitched in her throat. Was this real? She was supposed to be chained like an animal?

Well… she was an animal. She was something much worse than an animal.

"You can't be fucking serious," Bishop growled. As if she wasn't going through enough dealing with this shit. Now she was supposed to spend her nights in fucking chains?

"What else did you expect?" Vilkas scoffed. "What do you think it takes to hold down a werewolf? You could also have her run free. Maybe you'll get to see how you would fare against a Companion too, like your old man." He threw Bishop a glare.

"No!" Aeyrin yelped. There was not much choice in this. "I'll… thank you…" she muttered as she reached out for the chains. They were so heavy. She couldn't stop imagining being imprisoned in these, but… what else was there to do?

"It's fine, pup, just find a secluded place, fasten them to trees or rocks, somewhere they wouldn't slip off," Vilkas gave her a reassuring smile. "You should also get rid of your clothes and rings and stuff like that. It would all get destroyed or ripped to shreds. But you probably know that already."

She could only nod. She didn't really have it in her to speak right now, but she had to keep remembering that this was temporary. There was a cure. There were records and everything. Just temporary. And this was just so that she wouldn't hurt anyone.

"Don't worry, we're sure these will hold," Farkas smiled. "They're thoroughly tested."

"If you like, pup, we could stay with you tonight, make sure you're alright." Vilkas added.

Bishop instantly scoffed at the notion. Sure. 'Make sure she's alright'. With her naked and chained up helplessly.

"I think you've done enough," he growled before Aeyrin could answer. She wouldn't want that anyway, he could already see how uncomfortable she got. "We'll handle this."

Vilkas turned his eyes towards Aeyrin as if to silently ask whether she agreed with Bishop. She only gave him a nod in response. She still felt like she couldn't talk. But despite all that happened, despite everything that these two prevented her from knowing, all the lies and secrets, she couldn't help but feel grateful. It was more that she had ever dared hope.

"Y-yes… we'll… we'll manage. I… thank you…" she stammered. It felt a little strange thanking them, given what happened.

"We're sorry, pup," Vilkas sighed. "We never wanted this to happen, but we'll find a way out, I promise."

"Aela feels bad too, you know," Farkas added quietly. "She really thought you would… embrace it. Like we all did."

That didn't matter. She had been warned by these two endlessly. Everyone tried to convince her not to do this to Aeyrin and she didn't listen. And when Aeyrin refused the transformation, neither she nor Skjor cared about that. She did the worst thing imaginable to someone she claimed to try to help.

"You should go…" Aeyrin sighed. She wasn't going to talk about Aela. It would just turn ugly. "It looks like we have a lot to do…" She looked at the chains in her hands with trepidation.

The brothers nodded before they both got up on their feet and grabbed their packs.

Before they set off, however, Vilkas gave her one more reassuring smile.

"You can handle this, pup. Only two nights before Secunda's waning again."