Chapter 4: The Call of the Blood

Vilkas cursed as he dropped his hand for the third time, unable to knock at Kodlak's door. Coward, he thought to himself as he resumed his pacing, rehearsing the pathetic words in his head.

I have dreams of murdering a woman.

No, I suppose the dream is about stalking her and chasing her until I can taste her fear.

I need to be put down.

Vilkas started as Kodlak opened his door with a knowing look, walking past him to take a seat at the end of the corridor.

Abashed, Vilkas took the seat that Kodlak indicated to him. Words tripped out of his mouth.

"Every night, I'm plagued by dreams about chasing after a woman as a beast."

Kodlak chuckled warmly. Vilkas stilled, bemused by Kodlak's mirth.

"Ah, son of my heart. These are merely the dreams of a young Nord, perhaps flavoured by the beast blood, but to be expected of a man of your age," Kodlak chortled. "Perhaps it's time to consider taking a mate?"

Vilkas groaned.

"I have never met the woman. The dream starts as the Hunt, except it is always the same beautiful woman. Striking, actually, with golden eyes that burn through me, even as I kill her. Every night."

Kodlak stiffened, indulgent smile slipping from his face.

"Vilkas, think very carefully. Golden, as in, similar to septims? Or an indication of Altmer blood?"

Vilkas shook his head, confused. "Golden, as if alight from inside." Vilkas paused, unnerved by Kodlak's sudden silence. "Why is this so important, Master?"

Kodlak's voice grew stern.

"You must take account of your own actions, Vilkas, as you are the only master of your destiny. But heed me when I say that you must overcome your bloodlust for this girl. I, too, have dreamed of her, and she has a much greater role to play in our futures than can be risked to your appetites."

Vilkas' gut curled in shame. "I-you do not understand! I do not want to do her harm! I know I should not! But I still hear the call of the blood!"

-x-

You have no idea how sweet its call can be, thought Almerin wryly as she stalked towards the werewolf and his pack leader. The leader made an abrupt gesture towards the mongrel, rheumy eyes turning to regard her. "A stranger comes to our hall!"

"Almerin," she said coolly, dipping her head in greeting.

Molten silver eyes swung towards her, blazing in their intensity. "Master, you're not truly considering accepting her?"

He could not have seen me from that angle, thought Almerin incredulously, glaring back at the werewolf. She drew a breath, rifling through her brain for a scathing retort, but the grey wolf spoke first.

"I am nobody's master, Vilkas. And last I checked, we had some empty beds in Jorrvaskr for those with a fire burning in their hearts."

The younger werewolf flinched as if slapped.

"Apologies," he spat through gritted teeth. "But perhaps this isn't the time. I've never even heard of this outsider," he stressed, a white line appearing between his eyebrows.

Probably has a problem with female warriors, Almerin sneered to herself silently, trusting that the pack leader would spring to her defence.

"Sometimes the famous come to us. Sometimes men and women come to us to seek their fame. It makes no difference. What matters is their heart." Almerin smirked to herself as she waited for an inane response.

"And their arm," retorted the younger dog, predictably. Almerin bared her fangs at the mutt in an approximation of a smile, pleased to see the mutt recoil. I will save you for last, she vowed internally, ignoring the pack leader's question. She spun on her heel and marched towards the training yard, huffing a breath of laughter as she heard Vilkas – the werewolf – run to catch up to her.

-x—

Vilkas slammed open the back doors of Jorrvaskr, eyes darting furiously around the training yard in search of that blighted woman. The woman was in the centre of the yard, brazenly stringing an enchanted Dwarvern bow.

"No enchanted weapons," Vilkas growled, drawing his sword.

The woman quirked an eyebrow and tossed the bow aside, hands suddenly aglow with an eerie blue light.

"No magic," Vilkas snarled.

The woman's smirk reappeared, dispelling the light with a twitch of her fingers. She dropped into a defensive crouch, left hand snapping out in a sharp block that doubled as a forearm strike against his right arm.

Vilkas dropped his sword in surprise, only to find himself backpedalling to avoid the second strike that she aimed at his chest with her right hand. Khajiit-trained then, and likely to strike twice in quick succession when fighting unarmed, Vilkas thought to himself, as he threw up his hands to deflect her attacks.

An amused laugh tinkled from the porch. Vilkas glanced over, mood darkening further as he noted Aela's smirk at his defensive posture. Vilkas gritted his teeth, returning his focus to the woman. Her form was perfect, resting lightly in her chosen stance with a firm block, before striking forward while recoiling her blocking hand, the sunlight glinting off the rubies on her fingers. Always prepared for one last blow, he thought to himself, countering her throat punch with a swift upwards block, rapidly moving his block downwards to avoid her groin strike. Two strikes, then she pauses to regain her balance, realised Vilkas. He would have a small window of time to keep her still after her second strike,

The woman's eyes narrowed, and she aimed a swift kick to his abdomen, pivoting quickly to aim a kick to his side.

Vilkas allowed the kicks to land with a grunt, then lunged towards the woman, pinning her arms to her side, forcing her to a standstill.

And froze, as her curves shifted beneath his arms and his blood boiled.

Take. Kill.

Vilkas' moment of indecision spelled his literal downfall, as the woman snaked her back foot in a semicircle, tripping him up and striking his chest with her newly freed right fist. Vilkas fell backwards, hands sightlessly reaching for the woman.

-x-

Almerin leaped back as if burned. The werewolf lay sprawled on the ground, and yet she could only think of that moment in which she had been completely trapped, completely under his control. Humiliating, was the word that helpfully sprang to mind as she snarled internally at her fear.

The werewolf gathered himself together quickly, jumping up with his familiar scowl.

"You might just make it. But for now, you're still a whelp to us, new blood. So you do what we tell you. Here's my sword. Go take it up to Eorlund to have it sharpened. And be careful, it's probably worth more than you are."

Almerin glanced incredulously at the dog, looking pointedly at Zephyr, which lay discarded in the middle of the training yard, worth almost tenfold the price of his chunk of steel. The werewolf had the grace to blush, although his eyebrows narrowed as he continued to shove the sword towards her.

Almerin snatched the sword from him, calmly locking eyes with him as she harnessed a Teleportation spell. She smirked, as she captured an excessive amount of mana to send his sword soaring up to the Skyforge. The dog winced, as the female werewolf's bark of laughter echoed through the yard. Engrossed in keeping eye contact with the mutt, Almerin startled a little when the female nudged her, handing Zephyr back to her.

"Farkas will show you to your quarters, Almerin," smiled the female. "When you've rested, ask the icebrain to let you in on one of his assignments."

Almerin nodded assent, following the hulking beast indoors, hyperaware of his brothers' eyes burning into the back of her head. Uncomfortable in her new surroundings, Almerin almost missed the apologies spilling from the larger wolf.

"The sleeping areas are small, but we get by. You might have to throw something at Torvar if her starts snoring again."

"I could sleep standing up," murmured Almerin, tongue firmly in cheek as she thought of Harkon's old coffin.

"That's the spirit!" bellowed Farkas, vigorously patting her back and inadvertently propelling her into the dormitory.

Almerin looked around, lips curling. A far cry from the silk and velvet-lined coffins of Volkihar, certainly. But she wasn't here to be comfortable.

Almerin turned around to face the lumbering oaf.

"My first assignment, then?"

-x-

A/N: For those who enjoy karate, I imagined a gedan-barai followed by choko-zuki in zenkutsu-dachi. Then Shotei Uchi followed by gedan tettsui in neko ashi dachi. Then Mae geri followed by mawashi geri from zenkutsu-dachi. Finally an Ashi barai with a desperate strike of no particular form when Almerin felt trapped. Thanks for reading :)