I've been playing Skyrim again recently and felt inspired to write this. I think this story's format is a little different from most stories I can find for this universe. All rights to all products go to their proper owners. Also, as some details are obscure or missing, I am going to be making some things up. That all being said, I hope you enjoy the story :)

Prologue

They were about five years old at the time. Being with the necromancers seemed to block any good memories they may have had from before their habitation with them. Performing magic was questionable enough, but necromancy was forbidden across Skyrim. They were moving almost constantly to avoid capture or being seen by wandering heroes. The twins were in a state of fear and helplessness. They didn't want to live this life. If only someone would take mercy on them and rescue them.

Jergen became their hero. Though only a wandering adventurer at the time, he came upon the necromancers and slayed them all with the edge of his mighty greatsword. As he was going through the spoils of the small camp, his keen ears picked out the sound of life. He had his sword at the ready to strike again as he walked closer to the sound. In a tent, hiding in a bedroll, were two small boys. The hero's heart was heavy. These boys needed protection.

"It's all right, boys, you're safe now," said Jergen, trying to be gentle. Their response was to hug him and cry. Help had come. They were saved. "I'll take you home, far away from this place."

It took about a week to get to Jergen's home between walking and riding a carriage. It was a large house with a tower on the east side, a patio to the west, and a slanted roof to the north. Jergen brought the boys inside and introduced them to his wife, Hamarica. She took to the boys quickly, loving them as if they were her own.

The boys were named Vilkas and Farkas. They came to enjoy their new home very well. Hamarica was always there, cooking their meals. Vilkas came to love spending time in the east tower library. Hamarica would sometimes read to him, other times he would take down a book for himself. He learned quickly and devoured knowledge. Farkas, on the other hand, clung more to Jergen. Whenever Jergen came home with a new trophy, Farkas would sit on his knee and listen to Jergen's tales. It was looking like Farkas would become a warrior someday and Vilkas, an academic. Life, however, had other plans.

Jergen took the boys for a walk to Solitude. Their trek was quiet. The plan had been to show the boys the city and Jergen wanted to stock up for his next adventure. Hamarica stayed home as she wasn't fit for travel. In a matter of weeks, the little family of four would grow. Jergen wanted one more adventure before staying home to take care of his family more.

On the way into the city, Jergen was stopped by a courier. Through rushed words, Jergen found out about what the Third Aldmeri Dominion had done. War was coming and Jergen, a true son of Skyrim, was going to fight for his land. He resolved to get the boys home so that they would be safe when the war began. When he got home… when he got home he found his house in ashes and burning embers. A note revealed the elves had attacked to slow him down. Jergen was a great hero and his involvement in the conflict would bring about many deaths to the elves and many people to the Empire's side. All the fire did though was make Jergen surer of his course. First, the boys had to be safe. They had to be put somewhere where the elves wouldn't dare go.

After a trade with a hunter, Jergen had a horse that brought him and the boys to Whiterun. He walked the boys up the steps to Jorrvaskr. He exchanged a few words with the Harbinger and Jergen was never seen again. Either he died in the Great War and his body never found or something had come up to make him leave. With that, Vilkas and Farkas were left to be raised by the Companions to be warriors for them. After proving themselves capable warriors, they became members of the Circle. Farkas only remembered the good in his childhood, glad to finally be the warrior Jergen was. Vilkas, however, could only be bitter. The memories of what was taken from him sung in his mind and intruded upon his dreams. He found little reason to be happy, but he could manage to be distracted through training new members.

Some time later, Kodlak talked with the Circle about the beast blood and the afterlife of werewolves. Aela and Skjor were content being werewolves and didn't mind joining Hircine on his hunting grounds. Vilkas and Farkas, however, supported Kodlak in refraining from turning. Kodlak wanted a cure and the boys wanted to help him in any way they could. Kodlak did research and Farkas took to the change well enough. For Vilkas, it was hard. The call of the blood was strong. His mind was fogged, his heart grieved. The past would not let go and his wolf wouldn't be quieted. Training new warriors was a small distraction and whatever missions came the Companions' way, he contributed to them. His mind, however, would always go back. There was no escape and he doubted if he ever would escape.

That's all for now. I think I'll do the story by switching viewpoints, so look forward to a different POV next chapter. I hope you enjoy it. Please keep reading and reviewing, thanks :)