Tirdas, 23rd of Hearthfire, 4E 201
It was late in the night and early in the morning when Kjell arrived back at Jorrvaskr. He had almost expected to find Vilkas sitting on the ground out back, as he often did. But then, Kjell didn't know what time it was; he'd been lost in his thoughts as he followed the road home.
Wait, Kjell thought, home? Kjell was from Riften. Since when was Whiterun "home"? No, Kjell found himself thinking. Not Whiterun. Jorrvaskr. He had gotten way too involved in this place and its people. The Thieves' Guild had become just about the farthest thing from his mind. Why? He'd let himself get caught up in the drama of the Companions' lycanthropic dilemma. Once he had (foolishly, he decided) allowed himself to be turned, that was it – he was a part of it now.
What a fine mess, Kjell thought, trying to call his mind to order. He considered waking Vilkas – even walked right up to his door. After all, they still had some things to talk about, too. But before knocking, Kjell changed his mind and instead went back down the cavernous hallway to his own bed. He may not have needed to rest his body, but right now, his mind was a different beast entirely.
. . .
"There you are," Aela hissed when Kjell emerged from the basement around midmorning. She beckoned him over near the front doors and began speaking in a hushed tone. "I've been running interference for you around here," she said. "I don't think anyone's caught on to our little campaign. Yet."
Kjell swallowed anxiously. Aela was not someone he would want to cross – but neither was any other Companion. Aela seemed not to notice his nerves, though, and she went on.
"How did things go at their camp?"
"Too easy," Kjell answered truthfully, in spite of the nervous feeling he was still trying to shake. "I've got the plans in my knapsack."
"Lead the way," Aela said.
Heading into the shared room with Aela in tow, Kjell caught a quick glimpse of Vilkas walking down the long corridor toward the stairs. Was he coming from Kodlak's room? He caught Vilkas's eye for a quick second and looked at him questioningly. Vilkas raised one eyebrow, as Aela herded Kjell into the shared room, eager to collect the plans that Kjell had retrieved.
"Perfect," Aela said as Kjell handed her the two notebooks he'd brought back. "Hopefully this will let us know more about their movements. I think we've got them on the run."
"Probably so," Kjell agreed. "After all, we took out their 'Skinner'…"
"While you were gone, I did some more digging," Aela mentioned, as though she were dangling a carrot on a stick.
"What's our next target?" Kjell took the bait. Aela smiled confidently.
"The Silver Hand has been scouring the world for more pieces of Wuuthrad," she explained. "One group has hidden out in Whiterun Hold."
"Gutsy," Kjell remarked. "Where?"
"Valtheim Towers," she said. "You've probably been past them before; I walked by them on my way back here after… after Skjor." She seemed unable to bring herself to reference what had happened directly. "Take the road outside the city and go toward Honningbrew Meadery. Then cross the river and continue along the road. You'll see one of the towers right off the road."
Kjell nodded.
"They're impossible to miss – unless you're even dumber than you look," she added, amused with her own quip.
"Noted," Kjell chuckled.
"Get back the piece of Wuuthrad," Aela said, immediately serious again. She clasped Kjell's shoulder. "For the honor of us all."
And, just like that, Kjell was off once again.
. . .
On the other side of the river, the road ran between the river and the hills, skirting the mountain known as the Throat of the World. Kjell knew the two towers that made up Valtheim Towers straddled the river, with a long stone bridge between them. He wondered how many Silver Hand would be there, and knew that however many there were, they'd be keeping watch. He kept his eyes alert, scanning the horizon. At the first sight of Valtheim Towers, he would stop a moment to plan his approach.
Kjell soon caught sight of the first tower. Figuring that if he could see the tower, then its occupants could also see him, he maintained his pace and followed the road calmly. From this distance, they couldn't possibly know who it was approaching. He paused along a ridge, which allowed him some cover, and planned how he would advance.
Across the cobbled road from where he currently stood was a pair of stone cairns. They marked a worn dirt path that led uphill, and Kjell figured he could keep himself hidden among the hills and sparse tree cover off the road.
He walked over to the other side of the road and proceeded between the two cairns and up the path, as calmly and collectedly as he could; it wouldn't do to make the watchperson in the tower think he was frantic, anxious, or up to something. Kjell was far more used to disappearing into a crowd of people, rather than into the open wilderness. But he supposed that as long as he acted like he knew where he was going, he shouldn't stand out.
Once Kjell passed out of sight of the towers, he dropped into a more ready stance. Carefully, he proceeded along the rocky cliffs that made up the side of the mountain, cautiously choosing his path in order to remain out of sight from the towers. Through stretches that had no cover from that direction, he moved steadily through the shadows cast by the cliffs above. He could only hope that was good enough.
Peering around a boulder right across from the close tower, what Kjell found seemed promising. There was a chair on top of the tower for a lookout, but no one was up there. Across the river, he could see one person standing watch on the other side, but not facing his direction. And the doors were wide open. Now appeared to be his opening.
There was, strangely, no one inside the first tower. But crossing the river was going to be the hard part. Now that Kjell was closer, he could see another lookout standing atop the second tower. Neither was looking his way, but there was no way to guarantee they wouldn't turn around. If he wanted to get across without getting shot, he would need to move carefully so as not to catch their eyes – and he would need to be extremely lucky.
Kjell took a deep breath. No turning back now, he told himself, and began to cross the stone bridge. He moved calmly, but his heart was pounding so hard, he thought it might burst out of his chest.
When Kjell reached the midpoint, where the bridge dipped and the stone structure offered partial cover, he could hardly believe that neither lookout had turned around. Nervously, he looked down over the edge of the bridge at the rushing river below. It was a sobering sight. Even if he survived an arrow shot, it was a long way down if he were to get knocked off the bridge. I don't know what I'm going to do if I survive this, but it better be good, Kjell told himself. After a long steadying breath, he forged ahead.
Hardly believing it, Kjell made it across. Carefully and quietly, he opened the door that led into the second tower. There was a second door up a few steps, which from what he had seen, he supposed would lead outside and around to one of the lookouts. He had to go out one of the doors to get up to the top of the tower.
Sneaking past the first lookout was easy. He was far away from the door from which Kjell emerged, and was watching the opposite direction. Inside an archway opposite the lookout's direction from the door, there was a man huddled over an alchemy table. Kjell had no difficulty slipping unnoticed behind him while he was deep in contemplation and plunging a dagger through his throat. He let the would-be alchemist down gently onto the floor to avoid attracting attention.
The shelves and tables around the alchemy lab held nothing of particular interest. But, moving farther up the tower, Kjell easily spied a large chest – and inside, an ornate piece of a blade. This must be it.
. . .
As Kjell passed Honningbrew Meadery along the way back toward Whiterun, his thoughts again turned back to the Thieves Guild. It seemed that every time he thought about it, the mess he'd made for himself looked bigger and more tangled. With no one to talk to and not much else to distract him along the road, he took a few moments to take stock of the disarray his plans had devolved into.
Every time he made a plan to get back in touch with the Guild, something came up with the Companions that caused him to miss his meeting with that fence – who had now told him not to come back. Unhelpful, Kjell noted.
On top of that, Kjell was now a werewolf. It seemed clear that the Companions – rather, the Circle – knew that without being told, with their acute senses. Would anyone else? And even if not, how long could he hide it from those who didn't? Kjell had already felt the burden of the strange, violent new urges that came with his affliction. The Circle managed to keep their secret because they had each other's backs. But if Kjell returned to Riften, he would not be among anyone else who shared his secret. The Guild was his family – they'd taken him in when he ran away from the orphanage and had raised him. Would he only be endangering them if he returned?
On that note, what was more, for the first time in his life, the Thieves Guild members were perhaps not his only family. Unmistakably, Kjell had begun to build real bonds with the Companions. Farkas and Aela had become truly and practically like a brother and sister to Kjell. As for Vilkas… perhaps something more.
The longer he let their sudden kiss that night stew and stagnate in his mind, the more uncertain Kjell felt about everything. Kjell had long known that he had no interest in women – since even before puberty, he supposed. He should have welcomed the idea of getting closer to Vilkas – his handsome face, strong frame, and muscular body were certainly appealing to Kjell. So why had Kjell spent so much time avoiding Vilkas?
He didn't want any more complications, that was true. Somewhere along the line, Kjell had convinced himself it was Vilkas he was trying to keep from catching any feelings. But perhaps the truth was on the contrary. Kjell was finding that more and more, when he thought of Vilkas, he didn't think strictly of the physical. Though they'd annoyed each other at first, Kjell had gradually begun to appreciate Vilkas's personality. And he seemed to be growing on Vilkas, too. Now Kjell was the one eager to talk to Vilkas, always looking for an opportunity to catch his eye.
He hated it, Kjell decided. It only made the knots more difficult to unwind. He had to find a way to let it go. At the end of the day, they were simply different kinds of people. Vilkas might not have been aware of that yet, but Kjell was.
. . .
It was late in the evening when Kjell returned to Jorrvaskr. Aela was the only person in the main hall, so they could speak relatively openly. Kjell walked right up to her and showed her the piece of Wuuthrad.
"Another piece of glory," she said, taking the blade fragment and walking across the room to a display case. "Good work, Shield-Brother."
She opened the case and the two of the looked over the pieces they already had, laid out on red velvet. Together they found where this new fragment fit, and admired their new addition.
"We've got the cowards on their heels, now," Aela said, "But I fear Kodlak's gotten wind of our efforts. He's asked to see you right away on your return. He should still be awake, waiting."
Kjell felt a shiver go down his spine. He remembered Kodlak's words to Vilkas when Kjell first met them. 'I am nobody's master.' Still, it was clear to anyone that Kodlak ran things around here, and if anybody would have the authority to expel a Companion – or worse, Kjell's mind insisted grimly – it would be Kodlak. Aela seemed to pick up on his rising dread.
"If you want my advice," she began, "be honest with the old man. But don't tell him anything he doesn't need to know."
"Am I going to walk out of this meeting alive..?" Kjell asked hesitantly.
"Of course you are," Aela said firmly.
After a deep breath to calm his nerves, Kjell walked down the stairs feeling more confident – if rather annoyed. Somehow he felt sure that Vilkas had been the one to tip off Kodlak.
As surely as Aela had told him, when Kjell reached the end of the hallway, he saw that Kodlak was indeed awake, sitting at his table where he had been with Vilkas the first day Kjell arrived. Clearly, he had been waiting.
"Thank you for coming," Kodlak said as Kjell approached.
"You wanted to see me?" Kjell acknowledged.
"Yes, youngling," Kodlak said, gesturing toward the chair opposite him at the table. "Have a seat."
Kjell did as Kodlak bade and sat down. The two spent a moment in silence, Kjell unsure how to proceed. Aela's words of advice played over in his head. Be honest, Kjell's mind echoed, but don't tell him anything he doesn't need to know.
"I hear you've been busy of late," Kodlak said, breaking the silence.
"I work for the honor of the Companions," Kjell said after brief moment of thought. This is technically true, he reminded himself. Despite Aela's confident demeanor, Kjell couldn't help feeling like he was in hot water.
"Lad, I know what you've been up to," Kodlak chided.
For a moment, Kjell thought he was going to shit a brick. His mind raced back, days back, to his first visit to the meadery. Was this about the Guild? Had Kodlak somehow discovered who Kjell really was? Did the fence blow my cover? Kjell thought frantically. Does Vilkas know?