Hello! Thanks to those who left me encouraging reviews! Now, without further ado, Chapter 6 of Heart of the Beast!
Will of the Beast
They had the carriage take them to Dawnstar, the nearest of the nine Holds to Driftshade Refuge – the Silver Hand's fortress. They rarely spoke along the way, and she could tell that the driver was nervous in their company. She could imagine that they looked like animals stalking prey, relentless in their pursuit. She couldn't wait to get off this rickety carriage and sink her fangs into some Silver Hand bastards…
"Thanks," she mumbled, though she doubted the driver could hear her over the wind. She hopped down, landing in a slight crouch. She straightened immediately, looking up at the daunting mountains to their left. She sighed and her breath came out as a thick white cloud.
The wind tore at her, throwing her hood back to reveal her eyes – darkened with anger. Her hair captured snowflakes, resembling stars against the night sky – and why Vilkas was thinking such a thing at a time like this was beyond him. He ground his teeth, irritated more than ever. She was nothing but a distraction.
He followed her for a long while before she finally paused and looked back at him. "That way, right?" She pointed, saying, "On the other side of this mountain?" He gave a curt nod. "Fine. Why don't I go on ahead? Scout the area?"
It only made sense, he thought. He was a lot heavier than her right now. Since she was lighter and more agile, she'd be able to move through this terrain with less effort. Still, that didn't make the suggestion any less annoying.
"Sure. You do that." She nodded and started up the incline again, at a much faster pace than he could manage. "Be careful, Sahana." He had no way of knowing if she'd heard him or not. She didn't turn to look at him or call back, just kept moving.
She had heard him, though. She didn't know what to say now that the tables were turned and he was the one saying such things. I could have said anything and it probably would have been better than ignoring him, she told herself, frowning. She glanced back, but there was only…white. Blinding snow. Focus on the task at hand…
When Vilkas reached their destination, he found a corpse waiting for him at the door. An arrow was lodged in the head. The door was left open, telling him that she'd gone in without waiting for him. That woman was asking for a scolding…
Grumbling to himself, he entered the fort. His eyes moved restlessly, searching for any threat. He had planned on making the Silver Hand pay for what they had done, but it looked like Sahana was dealing with them swiftly, leaving no one for him.
He found his way around without too many problems. Once he was in the cellar, however, he started hearing cries. Animal cries. He stepped forward, despite the fact that he felt a strange pressure, a peculiar clenching of the heart. When he glanced down, he noticed that Sahana's bow and quiver had been left abandoned. Further away, he found her cloak and then her boots.
Vilkas knew what had happened without having to see her. She'd shifted on the move. Somewhere in here, there was a werewolf running amuck. But why would she have allowed it?
He didn't have too much time to think about it before he heard an animal scream in agony. He swore and pressed forward. Along the way, he found a caged werewolf – far too feral to be set loose – and disfigured bodies. Blood coated the ground and walls. The smell of it all was… He had a hard time reining in his own beast for a moment.
A yelp gained his attention and then he found himself locked in combat with a few of the Silver Hand bastards that he'd wanted to dismember earlier. They came at him as a unit, like a pack of wolves. This was a game that he knew well, so they could not hope to best him. Vilkas deflected with practiced ease and countered immediately, demonstrating just what it meant to be a Companion.
"I'll rip your heart out!" And he probably would have tried, if he'd been given the chance. He settled with cutting them up, playing his own sick game for a time. He was merciless, ruthless – more like a cat with mice, torturing his prey before finally…
"Please…!" One of the men had fallen, his hands up in the gesture of the peace-maker. He was coated in his own blood and his eyes were wide, pleading with him… Vilkas could not even make himself recognize the surrender. Without a thought, he struck the man down. He turned on his heel, slicing through one of his other opponents before he could try anything. The last one was attempting to run, causing predatory instincts to kick in. With the prey limping as he was, Vilkas had no trouble catching up and, with another swing of his sword, chopping the man's legs off.
The scream that sounded would forever haunt his dreams. Vilkas ended the man's suffering right then and there. He couldn't believe that he'd done something so…disgusting.
Whimpering distracted him from his thoughts. When he turned his head, he saw her. Sahana was huddled in one corner, blood oozing from several wounds. He approached her, but she snarled and snapped, keeping him at a safe distance. "Sahana…"
The sound of her name made her whine. A pathetic whine that touched him in a way it shouldn't have. He crouched in front of her, reaching his hand out. She pulled back, baring blood-stained fangs. "It was foolish of you to rush through here without me," he told her, keeping his voice low and soft – or as soft as it could be. She was already a threatened animal and there was no need to make things worse.
She grumbled. Her ears fell back against her head; she understood that she was being scolded. He couldn't help the small smile that came to his face. She was always difficult, but her expressions – even in her current beastly form – were so endearing.
"Change back, Sahana," he ordered. With more confidence, he reached for her. She flinched, but allowed him to rest his hand on her snout. His hand traveled up and he touched the fur on her head. "Hurry." He climbed to his feet and she rose with him. She was taller than him now, enabling her to nuzzle his cheek. "Sahana, we're not finished here. We have to move."
She whined, but complied. Back in her natural form, her injuries became plain to the eye – as did her nudity. Vilkas found himself staring, despite the fact that she was covered in bruises and blood.
"You have my cloak. Good." She held her hand out, deciding to ignore his heated gaze. Heat rushed to her face, but she hoped that it just looked like her cheeks were rosy from the cold.
"I thought you'd need it," he said, untying the sleeves – he'd used them to keep the cloak around his neck. She grunted, taking the garment and wrapping it around herself. "Are you able to keep fighting?"
"Of course!" she snapped. Oh… He'd hurt her pride.
She moved and took up a bow that one of the Silver Hand goons had been using. They moved as one, mostly because he kept pace with her. She looked up at him through her lashes… "Thanks for showing up when you did. I was in for a world of hurt before you happened by."
"Yeah. You're still a lackwit for charging in here by yourself."
A barely there smile came to her face. She hummed a response before easing open another door. She held her hand up to stop him, ducking low and creeping along the wall. She dropped even lower when she came to the set of stairs that led up to a platform where a small group of the Silver Hand sat around, chatting over drinks.
Sahana drew an arrow back on the bowstring, ignoring the pain shooting through her arm. She stood straight and let loose the arrow. It whistled through the air and dove straight into a man's neck. He fell to the ground, trying desperately to draw breath – to no avail.
The two other Silver Hand members jumped to their feet. One of them remained at a distance, while the other, decked out in heavy armor, came running at her, shield and sword at the ready. She launched another arrow and it hit the shield with a thud. The man roared angrily, shield-bashing her and sending her flying. She grunted, but retained a tight grip on her bow.
She stared up at the man's monstrous face, visible even with his horned helmet on. She pulled her dagger from its sheath. Her heart raced as the man lifted his weapon high.
Vilkas slammed into her opponent, knocking him back and away from her. Their swords clashed. Sahana lifted her gaze and found the other man aiming at Vilkas, waiting for the perfect shot. She moved, taking two steps at a time and the man panicked, firing the arrow, but missing his intended target.
He dropped the bow and reached for his own sword. She was too close and too fast, though. She sent a swift, but powerful punch to his abdomen before sinking her dagger into his chest and then the side of his neck.
She dragged her blade from his neck causing his blood to spray. A fountain of red. He let out a strangled cry, made a gurgling sound and then dropped to the floor, clutching at his neck with his eyes widened in horror. She watched him struggle for mere seconds before the life left those eyes.
Sahana turned her head and realized that Vilkas had already taken care of the heavily armored goon. "Thanks for that," she said. He only shrugged. His actions were to be expected; they were shield-siblings at the moment.
Vilkas ascended the stairs and stood at her side, glancing around. "The pieces of Wuuthrad…" They sat on the table, alongside a tankard and a forgotten helmet.
"Great…" They approached the table together and gathered the pieces. "Let's retrieve the rest of my things and we'll be rid of this place."
He gave a curt nod and they headed back. He glanced at her, offered a small smile, "How'd that fall feel?"
She didn't want to mention that the big oaf from before had bashed her heavily injured right arm and it was now screaming in protest, throbbing painfully and setting fire to the whole limb. She shrugged the best she could. "It was a literal pain in the arse," she told him.
"I bet."
When they were closing in on Whiterun, Sahana glanced at Vilkas. His eyes were sad. His body was tense with negative energy. She stared at his frown for the longest time, pondering over it. She wanted to reach out and comfort him, but wasn't sure how he'd respond – needless to say, she let him be.
"You've been staring at me for a while now…" She couldn't read how he felt about it through the tone of his voice.
"Sorry," she murmured. "Just worried about you."
He looked up then. He searched her gaze – for what, she wasn't exactly sure. After a moment, he simply nodded. The carriage stopped and they hopped down. Since they paid in advance, they started up the incline that would lead to the city. Sahana glanced back and waved at the driver on his perch before turning back in order to catch up to Vilkas.
Vilkas was dragging his feet a little, dreading what was to come. The others had promised to have Kodlak's funeral ready by the time they returned. She lifted her hand and it floated in the air between them.
That's when Vilkas looked back. His gaze fell to her hand and he looked up with another gentle frown. "Were you planning on petting me?" he questioned.
She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She cleared her throat and shook her head, dropping her hand. She looked away, staring at the sky. Clouds were rolling in and she smelled rain.
"Sahana," he said, drawing her attention. "You've been an excellent addition to the Companions." She made a face and he had to laugh a little. The laughter died almost immediately and he sighed. She could tell that the words were torn from him, "And you've been a good friend, to both Farkas and I. Kodlak always spoke of you fondly."
"We did not speak as much as I would have liked to," she admitted, staring at her feet. Vilkas wore a sympathetic expression. It was true that she had not gotten to know the old man like he had.
"He watched out for you," he felt the need to tell her.
When they reached the Skyforge, the Companions were gathered around Eorlund Gray-Mane's forge, staring up at Kodlak's lifeless form. The other two Circle members nodded their way as they took their places. Sahana glanced around and found Eleni and her dogs on the other side of forge. Eleni was biting her lip, staring at Farkas' back.
"Who will start?" Eorlund asked.
"I'll do it," Aela volunteered. "Before the ancient flame…"
"We grieve," they all said in unison.
Eorlund continued, "At this loss…"
"We weep."
Vilkas spoke up now, "For the fallen…"
"We shout."
"And for ourselves," Farkas said.
"We take our leave."
Aela stepped forward, torch in hand. She set fire to the wooden stand that Kodlak's body laid across. They watched as the flame burned slowly, building, feasting and growing. "His spirit is departed. Members of the Circle, let us withdraw to the Underforge, to grieve our last together."
The others started to leave. Eleni rested her hand on Farkas' arm, staring up into his face for a long moment before walking by Sahana. She bowed her head slightly and Sahana mimicked the gesture. Before Sahana could follow her fellow Circle members, Eorlund stopped her.
"Do you have the fragments of Wuuthrad?" he asked her.
"Oh! Yes, of course." Sahana handed over the pieces.
"I'll need to prepare them for mounting again. I've a small favor that I must ask of you. There's another piece that Kodlak always kept close to himself. Would you go to his chambers and bring it to me? I'm not sure I'm the best one to go through his things."
Sahana nodded, saying, "It would be my pleasure."
"Thank you. I'll be waiting here."
Sahana entered Jorrvaskr, waved to Eleni when she saw her and looked around Kodlak's rooms. She sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. Eventually, she found the piece in the drawer of the end table. It sat upon a journal, which Sahana picked up and stared at for a moment.
When she returned to Eorlund, she placed the final fragment in his hands. "Thank you," he said. "Your shield-siblings have all withdrawn to the Underforge. They're waiting for you."
Sahana descended the stairs and turned left, entering the secret passageway leading to what was known as the Underforge. The Circle normally gathered here for meetings and such – it's where she'd come when she'd been initiated into the Circle, as well. It was a little dark and all sorts of creepy, but it was safe.
They were silent for the longest time. Sahana leaned against a stone wall, brushing her thumb along the leather bound journal. It appeared aged, she thought as she inspected said leather. She was half-tempted to open it and read through it right then and there, but couldn't bring herself to do so.
"The old man had one wish before he died," Vilkas said suddenly, looking at Aela as if he might smite her. "The simple fact is: he didn't get it." They'd obviously been discussing something before she'd arrived. No wonder the air felt heavy and oppressive.
"Being moon-born is not so much of a curse as you might think, Vilkas."
"That's fine for you," he growled. "But he wanted to be clean. He wanted to meet Ysgramor and know the glories of Sovngarde. All of that was taken from him."
"And you avenged him," Aela pointed out.
"Kodlak did not care for vengeance," Farkas said, surprising Sahana.
Vilkas looked at his brother, "No, Farkas, he didn't." He turned back to Aela, his gaze hardening, "And that's not what this is about. We should be honoring Kodlak, no matter our own thoughts on the blood."
Aela looked to Sahana as if to say, 'Help me out here'. Sahana moved to stand by Vilkas' side, silently telling the other woman that she stood with the other two. Aela seemed to think for a second, and then nodded slowly, "You're right. It's what he wanted, and he deserved to have it."
"Kodlak used to speak of a way to cleanse his soul, even after death." Sahana didn't remember ever hearing about such a thing… "You know the legends of the Tomb of Ysgramor."
"There the souls of the Harbingers will heed the call of northern steel," Aela said. "We can't even enter the tomb without Wuuthrad, and it's in pieces, like it has been for a thousand years."
Someone entered the Underforge, gaining their attention. "And dragons were just stories. And the elves once ruled Skyrim. Just because something is, doesn't mean it must be," Eorlund said. "The blade is a weapon. A tool. Tools are meant to be broken. And repaired."
Vilkas' eyes widened a little, "Is that…? Did you repair the blade?"
So quickly? Sahana thought, tucking Kodlak's journal into her satchel.
"This is the first time I've had all the pieces," Eorlund said. "'The flames of a hero can re-forge the shattered.' The flames of Kodlak shall fuel the rebirth of Wuuthrad. And now it will take you to meet him once more." He handed the ancient battle-axe to her and watched her struggle with hand placement for a moment. She wasn't used to carrying around large, unwieldy weapons. "You all should prepare to journey to the Tomb of Ysgramor. For Kodlak."
"For Kodlak!"
Eorlund nodded once before departing. The Circle members exited the Underforge and retired for the night, deciding to leave at dawn. Sahana went downstairs and into Kodlak's chambers, leaning Wuuthrad against the wall by the desk. She moved to close the doors, removed her cloak, unlaced her leather cuirass and removed her shirt.
She sighed heavily when she saw her shoulder. She sighed again when someone knocked on the door. "It's only me," she heard Eleni say as the girl opened the door. "Oh!" She hurriedly stepped in and closed the door. "What happened?"
"Long story," Sahana said, tilting her head to crack her neck.
Eleni crouched down to further inspect her wounds. "I'm not very good with Restoration spells," she said apologetically. "I do, however, know how to treat and dress wounds. I even have a salve that will promote the healing of your burn."
"Well," Sahana started, "my way hasn't been very effective…" A humorless smile came to her face, revealing gleaming fangs. Eleni's swift intake of breath had Sahana looking right at her with the unblinking stare of a predator. Eleni couldn't look away from those eyes, golden and glowing with animal ferocity.
Chapter end! And yeah, I'm kind of expecting people to know which parts are quotes from the game. Thanks for reading, though!