Truth and Consequences

Two hands to the hilt, Lucia brought the practice blade swinging over her head and down. Eyebrows raised at such an obvious attack, Felwinter turned away from the incoming blow. It was clear she had expected him to block and when his daughter inevitably lost her balance and teetered over, Felwinter kneed her in the backside, sending her sprawling into the dirt. "Balance over strength, Lucia," he said as she quickly got to her feet and scrambled for her weapon.

Before she could recover, Felwinter twisted on his heel and charged, closing the gap between himself and Samuel Samuel could try and flank him. The boy jumped at the sudden movement and had to hurry to put up his weapon, parrying a jab. Felwinter returned without hesitation, forcing another parry; one so hasty, an easy turn of the wrist ripped Samuel's weapon from his hands and left him backed up against the stone wall bordering the courtyard.

Fear was absent in the boy's eyes. Felwinter would have ended the session right then had he seen any. Instead, he saw defiance. Maybe even a hint of amusement.

The sound of small, light footsteps reached his ears, coming from behind. At the same time, the air shifted around Samuel; magicka gathering for a spell. Felwinter jumped away just before a wave of cold could be shot down at his feet. At the same time, he spun around, lowering himself at the waist and knees and twisting his torso so that his back faced Lucia.

By the time he was set, she was too close to get away and moving too fast to stop. Lucia ran into the wall that was Felwinter's back with a surprised squeal, bouncing off. Before she could fall back or retreat. Felwinter's arm shot out and wrapped around her waist, pinning her to his side.

He had challenged them to try the same trick that they used on Vilkas. A challenge given in sarcasm and yet, they had tried it all the same. "What matters if you tried," he jeered aloud, jostling Lucia around in his grip until she began laughing.

Suddenly, a howl escaped Felwinter's throat. A savage wave of cold had bloomed across his lower back, making him jump nearly a foot into the air. In the confusion, Lucia managed to wrest out of his grip and with a roar, threw herself bodily into Felwinter's chest.

Felwinter hit the ground hard, air rushing from his lungs. Lucia continued to push her full weight down on him, preventing him from taking any back in. Both too tired and too impressed to keep struggling, Felwinter put up his hands. "Mercy, damn it. I yield," he grumbled, earning cheers from the kids and laughter from onlookers.

When Lucia finally scrambled off his chest, Felwinter craned his neck to look at them. "Cold hands? Really?" He asked Samuel.

Samuel managed to look both incredibly sheepish and proud. "You said to try the trick again."

"I thought you were gonna do it the exact same way."

"But then you would have seen it coming!"

"I…alright. That's on me." He let his head fall back down, waving them away. "Find my coin and take your win-" His children were off before he could finish. "Don't spend it all in one place," he yelled from the ground.

Vilkas' low voice came out over the wind. "He dead?" he asked the kids.

"No!" Both yelled as they shoved their way into the longhouse.

"Shame." Vilkas approached until he was standing over Felwinter, still flat on his back. "Not as funny when it's you, is it?"

Felwinter shrugged. "It's still pretty funny."

Vilkas chuckled and then offered a hand for Felwinter to haul himself back to his feet. "I take it you've recovered from your travels?"

"I'm in less danger of keeling over than I was before." His body still ached from the sparring, despite the ease of it. His back and chest most of all. The two of them started towards the sitting area. "Place seems empty. Where is everyone?"

"Aela, Athis and Farkas went to handle a giant in the plains," Vilkas explained, settling down across from the seat Felwinter dropped himself into.

"And you weren't invited? I don't blame them." Felwinter propped his foot up on Vilkas' thigh and was promptly knocked off. "A grown man who can't even handle a pair of children…"

"And how well did you fare against them?"

"Hey, I'm still recovering from grievous injuries, Vilkas. Grievous!"

"And how long will you be using that excuse?" he asked, taking a jug of water from the center of the table and filling two cups.

Felwinter accepted the one held out to him. "For as long as I can and then for a little while longer."

"Aye. Fair enough." He barely managed to take a sip before Felwinter drained his own in one go, holding the cup out again. "The recruits receive their first contracts soon. I trust you have a speech prepared. Maybe one with little notes in the margins and pauses for applause and cheering."

"I don't think I should have to deliberately pause for cheers but I can think of a word or two I could say."

"The new blood couldn't have come at a better time." Vilkas put the jug down. "People all over Skyrim are requesting our services."

"Being famous has its perks."

"A number of us only returned a few days before you did, what with the jobs we're taking on."

"What kind?"

"Najda and I went to put down a wolf pack that was giving a pair of farmers in the southern Pale trouble. Too much for even the guard to handle. Turns out a mage was influencing them."

Felwinter drained the cup again by half. "Oooh, how'd that go?"

"If you notice Najda's eyebrows seeming a bit thin, you'd best keep it to yourself." Vilkas took another sip. "Aela went after some criminal who murdered a guard and broke from Whiterun's jail. By herself, of course."

"Of course."

"And Farkas took Torvar to retrieve some heirloom stolen from Falkreath's Jarl by bandits. Not sure what happened but when they returned, Torvar kept grumbling about some Falkreath serving wench and noise keeping him up at night."

Felwinter almost spits up his drink, lowering the cup and trying not to laugh.

"You know what he's talking about? About this serving girl in Falkreath?"

"Yep. Very well."

Vilkas frowned. "I feel as if you're suggesting something."

"You feel right."

"Gods man, you're married."

"Hey, I wasn't married back then. And Farkas isn't married now." Felwinter finished the rest of his drink. "Speaking of marriage, you and your Imperial…"

"My point is…" He loudly interrupted the point Felwinter was never going to finish. "The pay's been good but we've been kept busy. I'd even say overly so."

"Right, right. Least we could do is offload some of the more menial jobs onto the whelps."

"Why else have them?" Vilkas asked. Felwinter chuckled and then flinched when a biting wind flew by, making his nose sting.

Samuel and Lucia came back out of the longhouse and Felwinter could only wonder how much of his money was missing. Before they could bid him goodbye and disappear into town, Felwinter waved them over. He stood and went over to where Vilkas was sitting. "Day's not over. You've still got the other half of your training to worry about," he said, reaching over Vilkas and earning himself a growled insult. From the table, Felwinter lifted two books and held them out when the kids got closer. "Pay attention. I'll be questioning the both of you later."

While Lucia groaned her distaste, Samuel rushed forward to take first pick. When the both of them were situated, with Vilkas watching them from the courtyard, Felwinter took his leave, a plethora of other things he wanted done for the day.

He made it down the steps that lead up to Jorrvaskr before a thin pair of arms wrapped around his waist from behind. Samuel had followed him. "I'm not a book, Sam," he said, twisting himself at the waist as much as he could.

"Hey Pa, about tomorrow morning. We…" He started and then stopped, his eyes suddenly falling away. In a quieter voice, he asked, "We're still going fishing, right? All of us?"

It was easy to hear the question behind the question and Felwinter couldn't blame him. For the past seven days, he's kept his promise the best he could, he refused to let anything outside of Whiterun's walls take hold of his mind. No Solitude or Windhelm. No Dawnguard. No Solstheim. And every day was a battle and each battle weighed heavy.

That didn't make it any less worth doing. Felwinter brought up a hand and palmed the boy's head, shaking it around affectionately. "Of course, we're still going. All of us. Provided you wake up on time."

"I'll be up."

"Like last time, when your sister had to pull you out of bed?"

"I'll be up!" he said again, "I'll be up before her. I'll be up before you even,"

"That is not the highest bar, little man." He squeezed Samuel's head again and the hand fell over his cheek.

It happened as quickly and as subtly as a blink. His hand was still on Samuel's face but it was…armored, clawed fingers just barely kept from poking and piercing his skin. His hand was covered in fluid, sticky and hot and dark. Samuel's face was drenched in it.

Another blink and…everything was normal again. Felwinter's hands were clean and still gently holding Samuel's face. His barely contained distress must have been showing. Samuel's smile was slowly falling.

Felwinter forced a strained one on his own face. The hand lowered to his shoulder and turned him around. "Head back, Sam. I'll see you tonight."

Samuel gave him one look back and after some time, returned the smile. He jogged back up the stairs and disappeared around Jorrvaskr's corner. Felwinter let the smile fall. He brought up the hand he had seen, the hand that had touched his son. The right one. The same one that had…

His fist clenched. The entire limb ached slightly and he couldn't shake the feeling of blood dripping down it to his elbow. If Jordis and Gregor were to be believed, it was a memory. He rubbed his hand on his shirt to rid himself of the sensation and moved on towards the town's center.

The black edge of Felwinter's Lie shimmered in the sunlight that streamed through the window, more so as Moth ran a smooth cloth over its blade. He sharpened it and cleaned it more than needed. The axe felt just right in his hands. Like it belonged there more than anywhere else.

Moth wondered if it was the magic Felwinter had put into it; to channel thunder, to return to his hand from wherever it was thrown. Or maybe magic had nothing to do with it. Maybe it was just that the axe was made for him. Made by his own hand but with another's design and intent guiding them. Something that hasn't happened to him since before his mother was taken by sickness. A small dagger, the first he ever made. Too old for use now and more fit for a boy's hand than a man's, he kept it tucked away in a chest at the back of the bedroom he shared with Felwinter. He had abandoned much of stronghold life but not that. Maybe his father could find solace in that, among the downpour of disappointment Moth and Ghorza had brought him. But maybe not. The dead wanted for nothing.

Moth leaned back and lifted the weapon further into the light, watching the ebony sparkle like a smooth jet-black gem. He decided then that he'd take it to the dummies tomorrow and decided after that, he would make time to replace the dummies.

Footsteps came down the stairs. He knew it was Lydia, the only other person in the house. What surprised him was that she approached him and stopped, clearly having something she needed to say. Slowly, Moth lowered the axe until it lay over his knees. "Lydia," he acknowledged.

"Permission to speak freely, thane," she said, overtly formal for a reason.

Moth wasn't sure what was worse about fighting off Harkon's vampires that day they attacked the city, nearly bleeding out from a punctured neck or having the title "Thane" given for everyone to call him by instead of his name. "Don't call me 'Thane', Lydia," he said, "And you've never needed permission to speak freely."

The housecarl watched him for several moments. "Thane Felwinter has been back for a week. You still haven't told him about the Dunmer."

Moth suddenly felt the need to revoke permission he never gave. He nearly regretted telling her the day Felwinter departed for Solstheim.

"It's been too long," she said.

"I know that," he said back. Moth stood and walked around her, heading for the dining area to replace the cloth. "You saw how he was when he returned. He needed to rest. You know what this information will do to him."

To that, Lydia had no argument. To this day, neither of them know what Felwinter did to Mercer Frey. However the two-faced thief died, it had been so gruesome and vicious, Felwinter wanted to spare them the details. As if he were protecting them. Maybe he was ashamed. Maybe he didn't want to change how they saw him, when his temper had well and truly spun out of control.

Moth has only ever seen the aftermath. The rancid stench of blood even after all of it had been cleaned. The black scorch marks had to be scrubbed off a large swath of the road where Felwinter had seen Moth go down during the vampire attack. Pieces of the vampires were still being found. Felwinter's anger had always been too big, too old, too deep for his body and when it was spent, it left him ragged, barely holding together and needing days before he returned somewhat to the man he was.

"He's going to find out." Lydia had followed him. "One way or another." When Moth remained silently, she added, "If you're worried about how he'll react-"

"Badly. He will react badly."

"And you'll be there to calm him."

"Would I be able to?" Moth moved past her again and returned to his seat. He picked up the axe and noticed the ebony whetstone on the floor next to it. Kodlak's. "This is Kodlak we're talking about. Felwinter is still wracked with guilt."

"Then, maybe this is what he needs. For closure. Find the murderer and bring him to justice."

"What Felwinter will do to that man will hardly be 'justice'."

"Does he deserve any less?" Lydia closed her eyes and breathed. Moth only then remembered that Kodlak had been a presence in her life for almost all of it. "What other option is there?" she demanded of him, "Either he finds out in a way we can't control or he finds out from us."

"From me. You are not to say a word about this to him, Lydia," Moth told her, "Not a word."

The front door creaked and then was pushed in, pulling their attention away from each other and towards it. Nothing but Felwinter's head poked through the crack, an apple in his mouth. "Hellooo," he sang, voice muffled.

"Thane."

"Felwinter."

Felwinter scoffed. "Good to see you two, people squatting in my house." He pushed himself the rest of the way inside, biting into the apple and ripping off a large chunk. He kicked the door closed behind him.

"Kids not with you?" Moth asked.

"Magical studying at Jorrvaskr. No casting," he added before Moth could ask, "I have the reading up on…actually, I don't remember." He took another bite, the apple half gone now. "Reasonably sure it was important."

"I'll take your word for it. Do you want to help me start dinner then?"

"I can help but I'm supposed to have dinner with the Companions tonight. Give the newcomers a proper welcome before I set them off on their first contracts. I don't plan to be there long." Putting the apple back into his mouth, Felwinter shrugged out of the outer layer of his clothing. At the center of the living room, the fire rose slightly.

Moth could feel Lydia's eyes boring into the back of his head. While he wanted to turn, to silently tell her to drop the subject, something kept him still.

Lydia spoke first. "I'll be having a meal with some friends at the tavern," she told them, moving around Moth for the door.

Felwinter was at the fire, warming his hands. "When in the world did you get friends? I know I don't pay you enough to be bribing people. Blackmail?"

"Are you really in such a hurry to get your face broken again, thane?" She shoved past the man giggling like a child for the door. Moth was spared one last look before it was opened and closed again.

"Felwinter…" Moth was speaking before he realized it. "How do you feel?" he asked.

Felwinter pulled his hands back. "Well enough, considering how I was last week."

"I don't just mean physically. How do you feel regarding…everything else?"

Felwinter's eyes locked onto his for just a second before flitting away. His smile was gone. "No Solstheim, nothing outside these walls," he intoned, pointedly avoiding the question. His eyes returned to Moth and they stayed there. "Is something the matter?"

"No," he wanted to say. "Nothing at all." Lie. He wanted to lie. To wait just a few more days before Felwinter could no longer ignore the world outside their home, even for their sake.

To think there would ever be a good time to tell him. Moth was lying to himself more than anyone else. The truth would have its consequences for everyone involved and now, it was time to face them.

"Follow me, Felwinter," Moth rumbled softly. Then, he added, "Please."

Felwinter stared and then nodded slowly. Moth started up the staircase while Felwinter discarded the bare apple core, tossing it into the flames. Moth entered their bedroom as he heard footsteps on the stairs, Felwinter's head rising from the entrance to the second floor.

Once inside, Felwinter pulled their doors closed and locked them. Moth was standing at the center of the room, completely still, his back to him. Large, rough hands suddenly came up to his shoulders and squeezed them. They were more comforting and stabilizing. Instinctively, Moth found himself leaning back slightly into Felwinter's chest. "I know you're not bringing me up here for the fun of it. What's on your mind, Moth?"

Moth ground his teeth and pushed off, taking Felwinter's hands and bringing them down. When he turned, worry had taken over Felwinter's features. "Is something wrong?" His voice heavy with concern. The hands came up to Moth's head.

Moth caught them before they reached. "No. Not with me. Or anyone. Or…" Moth grinds his teeth again. "Before you left, Aela had returned from Falkreath with…news."

"What kind of news?"

A low, frustrated growl rumbled in Moth's chest. He had started. The words were choking him and now, there was nothing he could do but spit them out. "She found evidence of the man who murdered Kodlak."

The silence was deafening. In it, Moth could hear the wind pushing against the walls, the creak of the wood beneath their feet.

Felwinter's face was placid, strikingly neutral. Moth continued. "She told me, Vilkas and Farkas upon her return."

"When?"

A single word, so low and blunt, other men would have flinched at it. Moth only replied, "A week before you left for Solstheim."

The silence returned and now, in it, Moth could hear Felwinter's low, deep breathing. Felwinter had turned his eyes to the ground at their feet and seemed frozen in place. He stayed that way for a long, long time. His arms hung at his sides, his hands loose. The fingers of the right were twitching.

"Felwinter…"

His head snapped up and Moth saw his pupils. Small as points in a sea of white.

Before Moth could speak again, Felwinter suddenly turned on his heel. He pulled open the door and strode out. Moth didn't try to stop him nor did he try to follow. He listened as Felwinter's booming steps went down the stairs and only when he heard the front door rip open and practically slam close did the silence return again.

Moth sighed, suddenly exhausted. He rubbed at his face and beard and cursed Lydia beneath his breath. Then, he shook his head and made his own way out of the bedroom. The children would be home soon and he'd be preparing dinner on his own tonight.

Jorrvaskr was alive at that time of night, with no small amount of food and drink to go around. More than that was conversation, stories of triumph, words of advice from the older warriors to the younger ones. One of the better send-offs that the Companions have had in a long time.

In the middle of it all sat Felwinter. It was not lost on anyone who had taken notice of him that something was different. He barely drank. He ate even less. And any question or attempt at talking was met with singular words and oppressive silence. It wasn't long into dinner that everyone felt it best to leave him be.

But that dinner was nearing its end. Felwinter rose from his seat at the table's head and stood over all the others. With the look in his eye and the tension that seemed to fly off in waves around him, quiet fell upon the room very quickly.

Felwinter's lips twisted into a small smile. There was nothing warm about it. "I understand that a number of you were not here when I returned to Whiterun. Given that fact, I feel compelled to introduce myself again, though, many of you likely have already heard of me. My name is Felwinter Drakon. I was born to House Drakon of Stormhaven in High Rock," he said, "There, I spent my first eighteen years and another ten in Hammerfell. After, I moved through Cyrodiil and only a few years ago did I arrive in Skyrim and join the Companions."

"Like the rest of you will do tomorrow, I set out to prove myself within our ranks, traveling all over and performing deeds that honored my name and the names of my shield-brothers and sisters. I am the newest of the Inner Circle. Our previous Harbinger, Kodlak Whitemane, declared me his successor the night before he was killed. When a gang of killers broke into Whiterun under the guise of traveling mercenaries and attacked this longhouse. When one of them took his sword and ran Kodlak through as he attempted to protect the place he had called home for decades."

He paused to let his words sink in, watched as a few of the younger ones squirmed uncomfortably in their seats and the older avert their eyes as memories of that day came flooding back. "This is a dangerous world we live in," Felwinter said, his voice lowering, "A dangerous place in a dangerous time. I should know. I have seen the worst this world has had to offer, time and time again. Honor, valor, strength, all of these are what we Companions are known for and are values we hold dearly. But at our very core is trust. Trust, not only in ourselves but in each other. You won't get far without it. You won't get far with us or in life if you cannot trust the people around you and if you cannot prove yourself worthy of trust in return."

"This is why there will be a change," Felwinter said, "Each of you will receive your own contracts but you will be traveling in pairs. Whatever contract your partner picks will be your contract too and how well you do will be decided by the both of you."

Slight murmuring rose from the crowd. "Jobs have been lined up. You choose your partners in the morning and will receive your contracts only after." Felwinter nodded to the crowd and sat back down heavily, picking up his cup. "You'd all do well to get some rest. See yourselves to your quarters so the servants can clean and go home."

With that, the dinner had ended. After some hesitation, the Companions begin to stand and filter out, murmuring amongst themselves. Felwinter kept his eyes ahead as they did, silent. Then quietly, he said, "Not you three."

Those who had been closest paused but the 'three' knew who they were. Felwinter held their gaze as he drained his ale by half. The other Companions moved around them on their way out of the dining hall. When Tilma began to clean, Felwinter stopped her with her name. "Give us the hall, please," he said, "Just a few minutes."

Tilma nodded and with one last look to Aela, Farkas and Vilkas, she silently ordered her underlings to clear out. All of them went into one of the back rooms at the far end of the hall, Tilma closing the door behind them.

The four were left alone. It was Vilkas who spoke up first. "Something you wanted to discuss, Harbinger?"

Such an interesting use of his title, Felwinter nearly smiled. He doesn't respond. Instead, he turned his eyes towards Aela. Seconds tick by before Aela closed her eyes and sighed. She opened them again. "He told you." She wasn't asking. Beside her, Vilkas' eyes widened.

Felwinter's cup returned to his lips. "That the man who ran Kodlak through has been traipsing around Skyrim with his limbs still attached? Yeah. He told me."

Now it was Farkas who sighed. "Felwinter-"

He silenced Farkas by standing. "You can all explain it to me when we return. You're gonna show me where you found him," he growled. The first sign of anger he had shown all night. The air around him stank of the rain. "Arm yourselves. We ride tonight."