Two weeks after they had come running into the College with Cyréne barking orders to lock the place down, Brand, Shaye and Cyréne were starting to relax, slightly. No shady characters had been spotted and the college was peaceful, as usual. Being surrounded by powerful mages took the edge off a little too. Plus, now that she was home, Cyréne had her possessions. Arch-Mage robes, Savos's amulet and other items increased her magika reserves exponentially and Apollo and Janus were a constant presence.

Cyréne discussed the witness with Shaye and Brand behind closed doors. Shaye needed to get back to the Sanctuary, but Cyréne didn't want her to travel alone – so Shaye sent for an escort. An Argonian showed up a week later and they departed with Shaye promising to send a courier when they reached their destination. After Shaye's departure, Cyréne closed the doors to her quarters and sat down with Brand.

"Out with it," she said.

He told her everything and she immediately sent a message to Skjor. He and Aela arrived within a few days' time. Cyréne explained what had happened over the last month and the two Companions became more and more concerned.

"But that's not all," Cyréne said, in a hushed voice. "Brand wasn't given a choice about the beast blood. It was forced on him . . . by the Silver Hand."

Skjor's eyebrows shot up. "WHAT?!"

Cyréne nodded. "He was a sell-sword that someone hired – only that someone turned out to be working for the Silver Hand. And apparently, that someone is fairly high ranking, because Brand only worked for exclusive clients. It made him a perfect target, really. They used one of the captive wolves and forced the change on him. He said they wanted to study everything about the process and transformations, including whatever difficulties he had. After that, they released him in a controlled environment and practiced hunting him. He managed to escape a few months ago, but there was nowhere for him to go. They caught up with him two weeks later, and I'm sure you can imagine what happened next - weeks of torture. His injuries were very serious, and . . . disturbing."

Cyrene paused and took a deep breath before continuing.

"The Silver Hand also wanted to study what methods they could use to inflict the most pain. He escaped a second time and that's when our paths crossed. He's safe here for now, but this isn't a long term solution. He needs a pack to help him and protect him. He's drifting now. I don't think he's dealing with the call of the blood so much yet, because he was pretty much broken, but he's recovering quickly and he'll probably have to face it soon. I haven't asked him about this, but I was wondering if we could accept him into our pack. He has more valuable information on the Silver Hand than anyone. We all know that they know about the Companions, and we're kidding ourselves if we think they aren't going to strike at some point."

There was only silence from the two wolves.

"I think he would be a valuable addition," Aela said finally.

"Can he fight?" Skjor demanded.

"Well, I haven't exactly had a chance to spar with him, but he made a living as a very sought-after sell-sword. I'd say that means he can handle himself. And, he's as strong as Skyforge Steel. He was running full force on a broken ankle, with crushed ribs when we met."

There was another moment of silence, before Skjor spoke.

"Very well, bring him in and we'll see what he has to say."

Cyréne retrieved Brand from the library and briefed him on the situation as they headed back up the stairs.

"I hope you don't mind me calling them here without talking to you first," Cyréne said wearily.

Brand stopped their progress and looked over at her. "We'll see how it goes, but you and I haven't had much of a chance to talk about all of this . . . and I'm still not sure what you're all about."

Cyréne crossed her arms and looked at the floor. "You've mentioned this several times, Brand. Please explain what you mean."

He paused for a moment and then shook his head. "Maybe we should save this conversation until after we talk to your, uh . . ."

"Shield Siblings?"

"Yes, them"

"Fine," she said tiredly. "Do you have any questions before I introduce you?"

"Well, the obvious one. Why do you think they'll accept someone with my condition?"

"I'll let them answer that for you, but I wouldn't worry about it."

"Okay . . . then, what has to happen for me to become a Companion?"

"Well, after Aela and Skjor talk to you, you'll have to meet with the Harbinger, Kodlak Whitemane. He's a good man, like a father to me actually. He's the one who will decide if you can try to join."

"Wait, wait, wait," Brand said. "All of this is so he can decide if I can try to join."

Cyréne gave him an impatient look. "Yes, Brand, it's the Companions for Talos's sake, not some bandit clan."

He narrowed his eyes at her and she put a hand on his arm. "I'm sorry. I'm just worn out, right now, and I've been worried about you and Shaye, and . . . just everything. After Kodlak decides your worthy – and I have no doubt he will, especially with the letter I'll send with you, you'll deal with Vilkas."

She spat out the last part and Brand raised an eyebrow. "And who is Vilkas?"

She sighed and bit back the description she wanted to give.

"Vilkas," she said with a huff, "is the best technical warrior I've met outside of General Tullius in the Legion. If we're talking the ins and outs of weapons and how to use them, he can train you. He studies battle plans and techniques relentlessly, and he can pick up on someone's fighting style and weaknesses very quickly, which makes him dangerous."

"I'm sensing a 'but' coming up here," Brand said, in interest.

Cyréne smiled. "But, he has a weakness."

"Everyone does," Brand interjected.

"Well, Vilkas's weakness is his temper, but I wouldn't recommend you try to exploit it when he tests your arm. First of all, he'll recognize it and secondly, you'll infuriate him and he'll make your life hell when you do get in."

"I've met his type," Brand frowned. "It sounds like you two have issues. Is that going to make it harder for me?"

Cyréne sighed dejectedly. "I hope not, but it may."

"What kind of issues are we talking, here?" Brand asked. "I'd like to know what I should be prepared for."

"Let's save this for that other conversation; they're waiting on us. Basically, you'll get in as a trainee and do some smaller jobs until Skjor decides you're ready for your trial. At that point you'll receive a bigger job and a member of the circle will go with you to make sure you fight well and honorably. If you make it past that you'll be in and you'll have a Shield-Sibling assigned to you for a while to help you adjust and bond with the family. However, that may not be an issue for you and you'll soon see why."

"Alright, let's go."

A few minutes later Cyréne entered her chambers with Brand behind her. He caught the scent and his eyes widened as soon as they walked in the room. He shot her a look of disbelief.

She nodded at him reassuringly and introduced him. Skjor looked him up and down for a moment and said nothing. Aela's brows rose just the faintest bit and her lips twitched once. Cyréne relaxed a little. Someone likes what they see.

Brand stood unflinchingly under their scrutiny. Finally Skjor looked at Cyréne and then back at Brand.

"Cyréne tells us you've had some trouble with the Silver Hand."

Brand nodded and gave a clipped explanation of his story. He got a now-familiar reaction of barely contained fury from the two warriors in front of him. It dawned on him that they were the reason Cyréne had such a strong reaction to his story. They were family and a threat was looming. Skjor asked him some additional questions about his history and abilities before looking to Aela who gave him her nod of approval, and then to Cyréne, just as a formality, who nodded as well.

"Very well," Skjor said, in his typical gruff manner. "I'm sure you've realized what we are by now."

He looked Brand in the eye and waited for him to nod before continuing.

"Normally, we would never consider allowing an outsider knowledge of our gift, or admission into our pack. The only way to join would be to be born into it. However, Cyrene is one of the few people whose judgment I trust enough to even talk to you. And, her recommendation will go a long way with the Harbinger."

Brand nodded again. Skjor gave Cyréne a hard look and then continued.

"What our sister, here, has not considered, is the danger you pose should you decide not to join us."

Cyréne stepped in front of Brand immediately. "Now, wait just a minute Skjor. This is Brand's choice, and you will not take it away from him."

His eye flashed a bright gold. "He needs to know the weight of his decision."

Cyréne squared her shoulders. "He is under my protection, here."

"You don't outrank me in the Circle, pup," Skjor growled.

"No, but I outrank you in this College. Politically speaking, you aren't even in Skyrim anymore, Skjor. Those gates wouldn't have opened for you without my word. This ground is mine, and I rule it. I'm the alpha here, not you."

Aela's eyes widened and she took a step back from what she assumed was about to be one hell of a fight. Skjor glared at Cyréne for a moment. He looked ready to beat her into the ground, but she didn't flinch; if anything she became more aggressive. Suddenly he threw his head back and laughed.

"What the hell is so funny?" Cyréne demanded.

He stepped forward and wrapped and arm over her shoulders and patted her on the back.

"You are pup, you are. I'm damn proud of you. I always knew you had a fire burning in there somewhere. Maybe it's better you didn't take the blood – you'd have been a handful."

Brand cleared his throat and they looked over at him.

"I would like to join your pack. I'm a good fighter – one of the best in my field. I specialized in guarding and managing security for wealthy and politically important clients with lots of enemies. My services were demanding in excess of 10,000 septims before my capture."

"Why have we never heard of you, then?" Alea asked.

"In that line of work, the last thing you want is to attract attention. It just makes your clients a more likely target – the challenge of it and what not. They never even got to meet me until they made the first payment."

Aela smiled, "Impressive."

Skjor nodded. "Good. You may give Vilkas a run for his money."

"Oh great," Cyréne muttered.

"I'm sure he'll find Brand a valuable addition," Aela said, with typical calm.

"Good," Cyréne said dismissively. "Now, I've secured a room at the Frozen Hearth for you, or you can stay here. It's up to you."

"I think we'll stay there," Aela said with a smirk and a hot look toward Skjor.

"Okay, would you like to have dinner here? It's probably better not to . . . you know, given the recent trouble."

"We'll eat there too," Skjor said. "I'm ready to get away from all these damn mages."

"That reminds me," Cyréne said warily. "There will be two more additions to the pack should I return."

"When you return," Aela corrected. "Who are they?"

Cyréne took a breath and concentrated. Skjor and Aela both flinched and stepped back when Janus and Apollo appeared. The wolves took a quick look around and then sat on either side of her at attention. Their tips of their ears topped her elbows.

Skjor gave her a look of disdain. "Other than being huge, what value do they possibly have to us, except as a mild distraction?"

Cyréne grinned. "Care for a demonstration?"

"What kind of demonstration?"

"Threaten me."

Skjor took a menacing step forward with a hand on his sword. Snarls straight from Oblivion sounded and both wolves got to their feet. Never one to back down, Skjor continued his advance with a snarl of his own.

Cyréne took a step back. "Disarm him," she said, "without injury. That means you, Janus" she added.

They didn't fight like normal wolves, and Skjor was not prepared for that, or their strength. Rather than trying to herd him into a corner, Janus made a move to spring for him, but at the last minute he stopped. Skjor's blade swung and Janus uncoiled and leapt over it without injury. His heavy weight caught Skjor by surprise and toppled him. Apollo hadn't been idle; as soon as Janus made his move he'd closed his jaws over the handle of Skjor's sword and was wrenching it back and forth in his hand. Janus made a lunge for Skjor's throat and he let go of the sword to hold him off. As soon as the tip of the sword hit the ground both of them backed off and Apollo trotted back to Cyréne dragging it like a puppy with a stick. Skjor got to his feet and pulled a dagger from his boot with a roar.

"Don't!" Cyréne yelled.

A few minutes later, Janus was glaring from the corner, while Cyréne repaired the almost crushed bone of Skjor's forearm and closed the huge bite.

"I'm glad you finally dropped the dagger," Cyréne grumbled.

"You should've named that one Vilkas," Skjor grumbled back.

Cyréne smirked. "No, Janus knows how to avoid getting stabbed."

Skjor roared in laughter for the second time that day and slapped his knee with his good hand. "I should have trained you myself," he grinned, "and brought some of that ferocity out a long time ago. We leave at daybreak tomorrow, new blood," he said to Brand, and then he and Aela took their leave.

Cyréne called Janus over and gave him a pat. "It's alright, he cheated."