Author's Note: it took a minute, but here it is. Another chapter. Some quotes from the game in here, since this is kind of following the Companions quest-line and such (some quotes were changed slightly in order for things to make sense...).

A Wolf's Pack Torn

Sahana hesitated. It wasn't often that she hesitated. But here she was, standing outside of Kodlak's chambers. She knew why she was here. It didn't take a genius to figure it out.

Don't tell him anything he doesn't need to know. That was Aela's word of advice. Sahana would answer all questions honestly, of course – and it wasn't because Aela had suggested doing so, either. It wasn't that she couldn't lie, because she could – quite well, in fact. She simply disliked lying. Besides, Kodlak was a man worthy of respect, so lying to him was a no-no.

The door was open; Kodlak had heard her approach, no doubt. Still, he hadn't turned to face her. He waited patiently for her to enter of her own free will. She did.

"Kodlak, you wanted to see me?"

"Yes. Thank you for coming. Have a seat." He gestured and she sat in the chair across from him. They were silent for a moment as he looked her over. "I hear you've been busy of late." Yeah, that was a way of putting it…

Sahana gave a curt nod. "Yes. Aela and I work to avenge Skjor's death."

Kodlak closed his eyes, sighing. His disapproval stung, of course. "Your hearts are full of grief, and my own weeps for the loss of Skjor, but his death was avenged long ago! The cycle of retaliation will continue for some time… In any case," he said, changing the subject before she could reply to that, "have you heard the story of how we came to be werewolves?"

After a soft sigh of her own, Sahana responded, "Vilkas said it was a curse laid upon the ancient Companions." He hadn't been very happy with her after she'd decided to take part in the ritual with Aela, either. He'd smelled the beast on her and snarled at her. Snarled!

"The boy has a nugget of truth," Kodlak said with a nod. "But the reality is more complicated than that… It always is."

"So what is the truth, then?" she asked.

"The Companions are nearly five-thousand years old. This matter of beast blood 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?"

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

At that, Sahana's teeth gnashed together. Sure, she loved how the beast blood rushed through her and changed her, but it wasn't right for Kodlak – or anyone – to suffer because they despised what they were. The witches… "They should be hunted down for their trickery," she said through clenched teeth.

"We'll get to that. It's not so simple as just killing them. 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."

Sahana nodded slowly. "Is there a way to cure yourself?"

"That's what I've spent my twilight years trying to find out. And now I have 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 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 undo centuries of impurity."

"It shall be done," she said as he slipped her a map with her destination already marked on it.

"Good. Now move quickly. Don't leave any of them alive!" He looked at her for a moment before saying, "Talos guide you, lass."

The way he'd said that… She stared at him for a minute, trying to search his expression. He gave nothing away. She shook her head a little, standing. She moved to the door, glanced back, and then left him.

Sahana could barely breathe. It was like she was walking through one of her darkest nightmares. The place was devoid of life. The grass was grey in color, shriveled to nothing. The trees' limbs hung low, reaching for her as she made her way closer and closer to the entrance of the cave. The reek coming from within assaulted her sensitive nose and made her eyes water.

She gave pause just outside of the cave, staring into the darkness. Her whole body shook, surprising her. The foulness of this place just tasted so…wrong. Nausea struck, but she fought it down. She steeled herself before pushing onward.

Sahana readied her bow, becoming one with the shadows as she took aim. She wasn't even that far in and she was being pitted against one of the witches. Not that she cared; the sooner she took them out, the sooner she could go home and report a job well done. She let the arrow loose and it whistled as it flew through the air, hitting its intended target. The Hagraven dropped without so much as a whimper. Easy enough.

Movement caught her eye. Immediately, she shot off another arrow. Naught but a lowly Frostbite Spider. Moving on, she began the grisly task of beheading the witch… And again, she worked under the cloak of shadows. She went through the left cavern, her eyes unblinking and restless.

She stopped when the ceiling rose, creating a room. The earth wound around the wall, leading down to a lower level with a sickly green pool. Another witch paced, as if anxious. When she started up the winding path, Sahana hurriedly fit another arrow onto the bowstring and fired.

The witch let out shrill cry. "The Beast has returned!"

Chills ran down Sahana's spine, but she did not let up. To allow the witch anywhere close was asking for trouble. It would take a few more well-placed arrows, but the witch finally went down. Sahana allowed herself to breathe again – why she'd want to in a place like this, she didn't know. It was as if she were breathing in their vileness, being corrupted from the inside-out.

She forced herself to focus and retrieved the witch's head before returning to the spot where she'd killed the first witch. This time, she moved through the other cavern. She ducked low suddenly, ceasing all movement. It was too late, though; she'd already given herself away. She swore under her breath, readying another attack.

She was only able to let loose one arrow before a massive fireball struck the wall beside her. The flames spread, licking at her shoulder, tearing away cloth and armor and flesh. She ground her teeth, trying to ignore the rush of scorching pain. She shot off four more arrows in rapid succession.

"Your blood is ours, Companion!"

Sahana's eyes widened in realization. The witch was healing herself! Of course her hastily fired arrows would prove useless… "I don't think so!" She drew another arrow back, lining it up perfectly. There was no room for error.

The arrow dove straight into the chest, seeking out the heart. Blood spurted. A deafening cry nearly had Sahana covering her ears. But she knew when it was over. She stepped forward, dragging a blade from its sheath at her waist. She ripped the head from the body without mercy, without thought.

These three heads would have to do it. She could fight no more in this state. Because she was no longer in battle, she had become aware of the searing pain all over again. Despite that, she allowed herself to feel relief when she stepped outside of the cave. She couldn't wait to get back to Jorrvaskr.

It was raining heavily when she reached Whiterun. She pressed on, one hand over her injured shoulder. She had tried to clean it and thought that she had dressed it properly, but she feared infection. It still ached and throbbed as if she'd only just received the burn. Nothing but a bother, she thought irritably.

When she was closing in on Jorrvaskr, she noticed a small crowd gathered outside. Aela and Torvar – one of the other Companions – stood outside, their weapons drawn as they stood over a few dead men.

Sahana rushed forward. "What has happened?"

"The Silver Hand," Torvar was quick to inform her. "They finally had the nerve to attack Jorrvaskr. We got most of them, but I think a few stragglers made it out."

She needed nothing more. She dashed into the mead hall. As soon as she entered, Vilkas stood before her, tall and dark and intimidating. His eyes narrowed dangerously. She could see pain in those eyes, in the harsh set of his jaw. It didn't look like he'd been too badly injured, though.

"Where have you been?" he questioned angrily.

"I was doing Kodlak's bidding," she told him.

"I hope it was important because it means you weren't here to defend him! The Silver Hand… They finally found enough courage to attack Jorrvaskr. We were able to fight them off, but… The old man… Kodlak…he's dead."

Sahana's gaze fell to the bodies on the ground, one of which belonged to Kodlak. She fought off a rush of tears before making herself look at Vilkas again. She cleared her throat, asking, "Was anyone else hurt?"

"They'll live," Vilkas said. "The Silver Hand took off with our pieces of Wuuthrad. You and I are going to reclaim them. We will bring the battle to their chief camp. There will be none left living to tell their stories! Only songs of Jorrvaskr will be sung! We will avenge Kodlak…and they will know terror before the end."

This side of him…was a little scary, but she could deny him nothing in that moment. She could only nod as a response before she finally said, "Then we'll make haste. Pack what you need." While he turned and wandered off to gather the necessities, she moved to check on Athis, the Dark Elf of the Companions.

Crouching down, she met Ria's gaze as the other woman treated Athis' injured side. "He'll be okay," Ria assured her. Sahana nodded and stood straight again. She moved to Farkas, who sat at Kodlak's side. She reached and rested a hand on his head as if he were a child. It was a brief touch, one she hoped told him that she was there and wouldn't fail him again. An acknowledged sisterly gesture.

Now she would go and prepare herself for the upcoming battle. The chief camp was sure to be littered with the Silver Hand scum-bags...

"Sahana!" Eleni moved to her side, trying to keep pace with her. She bit into her lip, struggled to speak for a moment, and then muttered the words that Sahana detested: "I'm sorry."

Sahana sighed, dragging a hand through her hair. "Do not ever say those words to me," she grumbled. If she turned around right now, she would see only Kodlak's empty shell of a body. He was gone from this place and… Vilkas had it right. She hadn't been there to defend Kodlak. If she had been, things would have been different, she was sure.

"Do you think they'll come back?" Eleni asked in a hushed tone.

"Not likely. They've killed…" She paused, rubbed at her temples. "They've killed our Harbinger." Not to mention, they'd made off with the pieces of Wuuthrad – Ysgramor's weapon!

She couldn't think about that! There was no room for shame right now! She and Vilkas would retrieve the pieces of Wuuthrad and avenge Kodlak. She just had to focus.

"Eleni…"

"Yes?"

"Here. Take care of this for me – only for a little while." She handed over the bag that she'd stuffed the witches' heads into.

"It's heavy," she said. "May I ask what's in this?"

"It'd be better if you didn't." She whistled and her dogs, safe and sound, charged her. They jumped on her, yelping excitedly. "Vigilance, Meeko…" She pointed at Eleni and ordered, "Guard."

Immediately, they stood with Eleni. "Hmm?" Both dogs now pressed close to her, standing straight with their heads held high. They appeared calm, but alert.

"You are worried that they will return," Sahana said. "Though I am doubtful, they will remain behind to watch over you."

"Oh! Thank you."

Sahana gave a curt nod. Now, there was no time to waste…

She met with the other members of the Circle in Kodlak's chambers. Farkas and Aela stood to one side; they acted as if they had no life to them, no thought in their heads. Vilkas leaned against the desk, his arms crossed over his chest as he glared at Sahana's feet.

"What was so important that you could not be here?" Vilkas questioned quietly, though that did nothing to hide his resentment. Farkas straightened, clearly wanting to know the answer to that question as much as his brother did. "You said you were doing Kodlak's bidding?"

She owed them an explanation, she thought. Sahana nodded once. "He told me the story of how the ancient Companions came to be werewolves. He said that there was a way to cure one's self of the beast blood. That's where I came in. Kodlak wanted me to go to the Glenmoril Coven and strike down the witches that had tricked those Companions so long ago. I was to return with their heads. With them, he would be able to rid himself of his beast."

Aela made a face. Farkas and Vilkas exchanged a look. Sahana sighed, bowing her head. "I was successful," she murmured. "I just wasn't fast enough." She couldn't make herself ask for their forgiveness.

"In any case," Vilkas started, turning to his brother and Aela, "Sahana and I will be going to retrieve the Wuuthrad fragments that the Silver Hand made off with. And hopefully wipe the Silver Hand out for good."

Aela scowled. "And what do we do?" she asked, fire in her eyes. "Sit back on our asses while you're off avenging Kodlak?"

"It'd be best if someone remained behind to restore some order," Sahana mumbled.

"And prepare a service for Kodlak," Vilkas said, sending a fierce glare her way. She only nodded.

Aela calmed down almost instantly. "That is true…"

"It shall be done," Farkas assured them. "Everything will be ready by the time you return."

"Thank you," Sahana said, bowing her head once more. Vilkas pushed himself off of the desk, took up his supplies and brushed by her. She bent to pick up her things, turned on her heel and followed him out.

They were outside of the city within minutes, but they were already drenched from the rain. Sahana remained a few paces behind Vilkas, not wanting to risk receiving his wrath once again. She was sure that his beast was riding him hard. She knew because hers was doing the same. The beasts seemed more powerful when emotions were intense and overwhelming.

They hired a carriage to transport them. When they were seated, Vilkas leaned back, arms crossed. He closed his eyes as if he planned on sleeping. She pulled one of her knees up to her chest, watching him through half-lidded eyes. They sat in silence. Sahana shook the water from her hair before pulling up her hood. The rain and wind chilled her skin, but her heated beast blood kept her from shivering. She wiped some water from her face...

Minutes slid by. It'd be a little over an hour of silence before she finally spoke: "You do not really blame me for this, do you?" She wanted – no, needed – to know. She was losing people left and right to death, so she didn't know if she could handle cutting ties with one of the few people she'd come to cherish.

Vilkas finally looked at her, not asleep at all. His pale blue eyes held fire in their depths, but she could see now that his anger wasn't directed at her. He shook his head slowly. "No, I don't. Forgive me if I made it seem that way; they were hasty words, whatever they were."

He…doesn't remember?

His frown deepened. "I just couldn't believe what was happening. None of us could. When they managed to get in, they spread out, like roaches. Farkas and I were separated; he'd gone off to find the new blood, Eleni. By the time I found Kodlak, he was already gone from us."

"I am sorry that I wasn't there, Vilkas." It was something that she would regret for the rest of her days. He only nodded as a response.

"You say you returned with the heads of the Glenmoril Witches?"

"Yes." But what good would they do Kodlak now?

Again, he nodded. "Good."

Alright, obviously he knew something that she didn't…

Chapter complete. As always, thanks for reading!