He let out a long satisfied sigh as he sheathed his claymore onto his back.
It had been a long day, but a fruitful one. These bloodsuckers had been threatening travelers for a while now. It was good to finally be rid of them. The contract was open for a while, only because of her. She loved killing vampires, but as time went by, this got too urgent to postpone. And she was still hard to reach.
"Can you smell more? I can't," his brother shook his head, but he needed to make sure. He always asked him. He believed that Vilkas's senses were more honed, more focused.
Vilkas wasn't sure if that was true. Farkas had excellent instincts and he was a great hunter. But he always looked up to him in everything. Maybe Vilkas should have worked more on reassuring his brother's abilities sometimes, but, if he was being honest with himself, it felt good to still be thought of as the one to rely on. It had been like this ever since they were kids. Maybe it was selfish, but he didn't want to lose that dynamic.
"No. We're done here," Vilkas nodded in agreement. Seven bloodsuckers so close to the roads. No wonder they were a menace to any passing traveller.
It was high time to get going though, so this worked out well. They had a meeting soon and it was important.
They needed to find her.
The last month was… trying. No, that wasn't enough – it was devastating. Everything went to shit so quickly. And it was the hardest on her. Vilkas knew that all too well.
They all lost someone. They all lost important people who meant so much to them. But nobody lost someone like she did – not someone they were planning to spend the rest of their lives with, side by side. Not just their lives. Their death as well.
No wonder she reacted the way she did.
But that only led to more death and misery. There was no stopping it.
And now he was really worried.
What was she doing? Where did she go? Had she learned nothing?
Was she still chasing her revenge, now more than ever? Was she still provoking those insane fuckers day and night? She knew what it could lead to – she knew what happened only a week ago.
Kodlak White-Mane… dead.
Their Harbinger, slaughtered in their very hold. In their home. It was almost inconceivable.
It was all the result of her revenge. One wrong move, one bad hunt, and Skjor was gone. And then her mind snapped. She saw nothing but killing, nothing but her vengeance. It was troubling to watch for all of them and they all had a bad feeling about it.
But nobody expected this. Nobody expected their retaliation to be so cunning and brutal.
Nobody expected them to march into Whiterun under the guise of a mercenary band and to actually attack Jorrvaskr.
They must have known somehow that the rest of the Circle was gone. Or maybe not – maybe they hoped to slay them all. But they didn't get to.
The younger members only got wounded – some severely, but only wounded. Aside from Ria. She actually lost her leg. There was nothing Danica could do for her.
Now the girl would never become one of them properly.
And maybe it was for the best. What had they wrought with the transformations? They made enemies too powerful to curb and they ruined lives. Or maybe afterlives.
Kodlak. He fell in the assault. He defended Jorrvaskr to the last and he fell.
And now his soul was denied Sovngarde. Now he was forced to perform endless hunts for Hircine's pleasure.
The thought made Vilkas shiver.
He deserved better.
They all did.
But what if worse came the more she persisted? What if she wouldn't stop until the Silver-Hand came for them all?
It was a difficult reality to face.
They needed to find her. They needed to stop her rampage. She didn't speak a word to anyone ever since Skjor died – she merely came and went for supplies. And after the assault, she didn't even come back.
Whatever she was doing, it was nothing good, surely.
So they went on a different hunt today, right after this mission.
To save their Shield-sister from herself.
"So we go back to the monument then?" Farkas asked him after a while of silence.
"Yes. I asked Mjoll to be there on sundown," Vilkas nodded. She offered her help. Vilkas wasn't sure if it was for him or to repay them for what they did for her. He hoped it was for him, but he also knew how grateful she still was. That fucking creep Aerin deserved so much worse. He deserved a much more painful fate than Mjoll devised for him. Vilkas's blood still boiled just at the thought of it.
At least she was free of him now. Free and eager to help her new friends.
And he was excited to see her, despite the gravity of their situation.
"How's it going anyway? Still won't let you touch her?" Farkas smirked at him somewhat meanly. He was just asking that to rile him up. He heard the explanations before. Vilkas was sure the ice-brain understood them too, but he was intent on teasing Vilkas for it. Probably because Vilkas himself never imagined to be in this sort of arrangement.
"She won't and I'm not trying to, dick," Vilkas growled. "And just so you know, 'it's going' great," he huffed. It was. He really enjoyed Mjoll's company. So what if she didn't want it to turn physical? They talked about it extensively and they had an agreement. It was no big deal.
"I just can't imagine her letting you fuck other women for the rest of your lives," Farkas shrugged.
"Who's talking about the 'rest of their lives', ice-brain? Stop jumping ahead. We like each other and that's that." It was enough. It didn't need to be more. But if it turned into the 'rest of their lives', right now, Vilkas couldn't really feel bad about that notion. It was rare that he found someone he got along with so well. And it was her own damn idea for him to find physical outlets elsewhere. He had done that plenty before too and no attachment formed from it. Not until her and that happened even without sex. Why would it be different now when he actually had her?
"Whatever floats your boat, brother," Farkas smirked. He was so annoying when he was talking about relationships – as if his trysts with Gwendolyn made him an expert on the subject.
Maybe it was the one thing he had more experience with than Vilkas though and he wanted to be the 'knowledgeable' one for a change.
Well, if it made him feel better. Vilkas was willing to hold his tongue about the issue.
He didn't care all that much anyway.
He was just excited to see Mjoll again.
…
Mjoll was standing by the monument, watching the horizon and the setting sun. Her long blond hair was blowing in the wind and she kind of looked like she should be memorialized as a statue right there, leaning on her glass claymore that was partially buried in the ground.
Her Grimsever.
Every time Vilkas saw the light refracting in the meticulously polished glass, he remembered their adventure and what preceded it.
He never would have imagined that when this warrior walked into their halls with a strange Imperial man on her tail, this would be where they would end up.
She was so impressive. She found herself in such a fucked up situation and she came out on top, even stronger than before.
When the brothers approached, she turned around promptly, greeting them with a smile. Her brows creased a moment later though.
"I've seen no sign of her. No sign of one of you," she shook her head somberly.
"Don't worry about it," Vilkas shrugged. Only then he noticed that he was smiling back. It seemed to be an automatic reaction around her. "We'll track her down soon."
"Of course I'm not worried with the wolf boys on the case," she chuckled merrily. She knew the Circle's secret. Of course she did. They went with her to explore a Dwemer ruin. There was no way they wouldn't need to rely on their powers at one point or another and Vilkas made the decision to tell her ahead of time. He had a hunch about her. A strange… trust in her. But was that so strange after what they helped her with regarding that fucking creep?
Her reaction was different than most people's. Her reaction was one that they might expect of a potential for the Circle. They used to make sure someone reacted this way. Before Aeyrin.
Mjoll was… intrigued. She wanted to know more about their abilities and about what this curse, or a gift, really meant for a person.
But after Aeyrin was turned against her will, things changed. Vilkas was happy to indulge Mjoll's questions, but he did not spare her the details. He did not keep the possibility of lack of control, memory loss and, of course, the eternity of serving a Daedric Prince's whim, a secret. He told her everything. And even if she was still intrigued, he never offered her to join the Companions at all. That was not what he wanted for her.
After all that happened, that was not something he wanted for anyone.
Maybe he was just soured after Kodlak's passing. Maybe he was soured after Skjor's passing or after his and Aela's actions towards Aeyrin. It all turned to shit so quickly and so… needlessly. Now he couldn't stomach the idea of bringing more people in.
There was no honor in being a Companion anymore.
Aela had no honor to force the transformation on anyone. Neither did Skjor. And… he and Farkas, they had no honor either. They lied and protected their secrets, leaving the pup an easy target instead of an informed one. And all it brought to their Circle was death.
He would not bring Mjoll into this.
He told her everything. And he told her about the cure. Mjoll didn't ask him to join the Companions. She didn't ask him for anything, in fact.
She only offered her trusty sword for anything they needed. She wanted to help them reclaim their souls.
She had honor. And she didn't need to be one of them for it. And now she was even helping them go after Aela in her grief-stricken insanity.
"I was just trying to do something useful before you arrived, but I got nothing," Mjoll sighed dejectedly.
"You'll be more useful when we find her," Farkas huffed. "Who knows how she'll react to us chasing her down like this?"
"She's not herself," Vilkas sighed in accord. "Hasn't been in a long time."
"I understand," Mjoll nodded. "I understand her. She lost… so much. She lost a part of herself. But it doesn't mean she'll lash out. Maybe she wants to be found."
"If she wants to be found, why not stay put in Jorrvaskr? We were there," Farkas growled in annoyance. The metaphors went over his head, probably. But Vilkas understood. Maybe Aela was not out there looking for revenge. Maybe she was looking for a purpose.
But they wouldn't know until they found her.
"Any developments with Aerin, by the way?" Vilkas broached the subject.
They had been waiting for a sentence for a while. This was how Mjoll wanted it handled. Vilkas was against that – he thought they should just lure Aerin somewhere and slaughter him like a fucking pig. He was one after all. But Mjoll didn't want that. She said she would be no better than those settling their scores like that in the underworld she saw Riften be so consumed by.
She asked them for help soon and they arrived in Riften.
She was wary of Aerin getting the wind of her intentions and she was also wary of the Jarl and her decision-making. Apparently the woman was very corrupt. In her letter, Mjoll explained what Aerin was doing and her fear for her safety and mind further on. But she wanted him arrested. Gathering evidence would not go unnoticed for her, however, and if Aerin managed to somehow have the favor of the corrupt Jarl, Mjoll would probably not be met with a favorable end.
The Companions never dealt with the Jarl on their business in Riften though. Vilkas and Farkas arrived to help, pretending to be there on a contract as they 'bumped' into Mjoll and Aerin. Vilkas distracted them well enough, especially Aerin, while Farkas got a house key from Mjoll and went to get the diary. The next step was easy. The Companions had an excellent working relationship with Lady Black-Briar. All Farkas needed was to bring Aerin's journal with all the incriminating information to her and ask her for a favor. Aerin was arrested within an hour.
It was a relief for Mjoll, but there were so many things that needed to be dealt with after. Vilkas asked for Aerin to be executed, but Maven Black-Briar informed him that the Stormcloak-controlled Holds apparently often flinched away from this form of punishment and it was hard to justify. The ultimate punishment was banishment.
It wasn't too bad. Vilkas could track Aerin down, lure him back to the Rift and actually kill him legally like Mjoll wanted. But she was worried that before he could do that, Aerin would have a different plan. It was a valid concern and not one that should be taken lightly.
And so they waited, still insistent on the execution while Maven played the strings.
"Lady Black-Briar stopped by the house a week ago," Mjoll nodded. "She says she'll keep making sure he doesn't receive a sentence yet. I don't know how she's going to achieve that but… she's convinced that with Stormcloak efforts focused elsewhere, the Empire might focus on the Rift soon."
"So she thinks the Jarl will be dethroned and she'll make the decision herself?" Vilkas raised his brow. How long would that take?
"It's what I gathered from it. Though I don't want to imagine what that… entails for Riften," Mjoll gave him a worried look.
"Lady Black-Briar should be a better leader," Farkas shrugged.
"That's not in question. She's talking about the takeover, ice-brain. A siege," Vilkas explained. It was a valid concern. But that was a concern exactly everywhere in Skyrim right now.
"I'll just… wait. I'm just glad he's behind bars for now," Mjoll nodded resolutely.
"Why do you still live in that house though?" Farkas scowled. "You seriously want to be in the place where he… did all those things to you?"
"I want to stay in Riften and help its people," Mjoll gave him a determined look. "And a house is just a house. The man who did it is the one that should be feared and punished. I do not fear a building."
"Some buildings are not just buildings," Farkas noted. "I heard from some passing Vigilants about one in Markarth that had a Daedric Prince inside it."
"What does that even mean, a Prince inside a house?" Vilkas scowled.
"It was still a house with an evil thing inside. The house is probably not at fault," Mjoll winked at him.
She had a point. And if she really was not concerned about living in Aerin's house, that was fine. Since she was listed as a permanent resident on the deed, Maven was able to make that work legally easily. Vilkas only understood some of the legal gibberish, but it worked. Although he wouldn't complain about having Mjoll a bit closer to home, it was her choice.
"Hmm… I guess," Farkas nodded. "How's Grimsever treating you?" He opted to change the subject. Maybe because he had no arguments for her about evil houses.
"Feels like home," she only smiled at him warmly.
Their adventure into Mzinchaleft was like something from legends. They battled with ferocity and perseverance until they reached the very bottom. It was all of them back then. The whole Circle – him, Farkas, Aela and Skjor.
And then it all went to shit.
But Mjoll got to get to know them all and she fit in well. Aela suggested she join, of course, but Vilkas was adamantly against that. Surprisingly enough, she dropped the subject instantly.
Did she actually learn something after what she had done to Aeyrin?
Well, whatever it meant, he would not figure it out like this. Not without her.
They needed to move on.
"Ready for the hunt?" Vilkas asked as he took off his backpack and handed it to Mjoll. She would carry it for him for a while. He needed to catch the scent.
"I am. Go ahead," she nodded.
Vilkas's form began to transform instantly, the buckles of his armor clicking open as the plates fell off. Farkas was quick to collect the pieces and stuff them into the pack Mjoll was holding.
He could feel the familiar power soon. He could see sharper, hear better and he could smell everything. He could smell Farkas and Mjoll by his side. Mjoll's scent was a little distracting, but he needed to focus on something else.
The trail of a werewolf.
They needed to find her soon.
Before she did any more damage.
Before she brought more doom upon them all.
And on herself.
He let out a growl a moment later – an indication that he had the scent. It was faint – it'd been a long time since she ran through here, but werewolves had such a distinctive odor. And besides, all of them knew each other so well by now, especially in their wolf forms, it was like looking for the most familiar thing in the world.
Before he could run forth, Mjoll reached out to him and rubbed the fur on his maw with a soft chuckle escaping her lips. Then she leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on his nose. 'For good luck', she liked to say. She even did that when he went into battle in his human form.
It did make him feel more lucky, whether it was true or not. He was certainly lucky to have her there by his side. Unharmed and out of that creep's hands.
He sprang forth right after that. He had to hold himself back a bit to have Mjoll and Farkas chase after him, but it was not difficult to tell when he was far enough based on the scents.
It looked like this might be a long hunt though.
He ran south for a long time. He stopped frequently to have Mjoll and Farkas catch up at a leisurely pace instead of running after a while. It was further than expected and he couldn't rush them to run the entire time.
The journey took a couple of hours after all.
They ran past the Stormcloak-occupied Fort Sungard, they ran past a few camps filled with Imperial soldiers in the vicinity, clearly still concentrated on retaking that place.
And then, when he reached the mountains, he knew he arrived.
The scent led back into a cavern.
Hmm. Odd. Something about this place filled him with a strange feeling. A familiar feeling. Like part of himself had been here before or… was supposed to know this place. Or maybe what was inside? It was an indescribable feeling. And it was quite strong.
After a while, Vilkas turned back to his human form, letting the chilly wind caress his bare body. It was always so pleasant to transform. When he turned into the werewolf, he always loved the first feelings of the heightened senses and the warmth that emanated from everything, especially him.
When he turned back, he always loved the feel of the cold air on his bare skin and the sudden lightness of his form.
When he was human again though, the strange feeling near the cavern eased a little. It was still there, but not nearly as strong. What was it?
And what was she doing inside that cave?
So strange.
After some time, Mjoll and Farkas caught up to him again. Farkas approached him first as he grabbed the pack from Mjoll and handed it to him so that he would get dressed. In the meantime, Mjoll stood behind and observed the place where he stopped.
"What is this place?" She scowled a bit. "Another hideout of those… of the Silver Hand?"
"No. Not this place," Vilkas shook his head. They would know already. The Silver Hand would have lookouts. Or corpses left here by Aela.
"I feel… this place is odd," Farkas grumbled.
"You feel it too?" Vilkas raised his brow at his brother curiously when he was done donning his armor again. "Interesting." Something related to their lycanthropy?
"I don't feel anything strange," Mjoll scowled. Confirmed then. But what did that mean?
"Let's go. We need to find her," Vilkas nodded, brandishing his claymore in the process.
Whatever was waiting inside, they'd find out soon enough.
…
This was not something they expected.
This was no hideout of some werewolf hunters. No cave full of bandits ripe for slaughter.
Right at the entrance, they found a few things – a pack and the pieces of the Companions armor. A Companion was clearly here in their werewolf form. That could complicate things.
But they continued forth, warily, worried about what they would find. In what state she would be in – slaughtering beasts left and right? Slaughtering everything, including them, with her grief-stricken mind? Or captured and hurt?
But there was no sign of any hunters anywhere.
Until they found a body.
An old shriveled up body with feathers growing out of it.
A hagraven.
But the head was gone. Chopped off sloppily. Maybe by a claw. Did she decapitate a hagraven? Well… it was tough to get close to these things, but it was not impossible.
But the head was nowhere around.
It could have rolled off.
They figured as much as they continued until they found another body. Exactly the same. In the exact same condition. What was Aela doing? Why was she decapitating hagravens like this?
It was… disturbing.
The sight greeted them a few more times until they reached a large chamber.
And there, something they were wary of seeing and, at the same time, something they had not expected.
"One for her, one for him, two for them," the voice, cracked and shivering, rang through the chamber almost like some insane woman's ramblings. Maybe they were.
It was her.
She knelt there, naked and covered in blood. She stared at the ground where several hagraven heads were. Four of them were lined up in front of her and positioned up to stare into her eyes. And she continued.
"Yes. Good. One for her, one for him, two for them. Or… was it three?"
What happened to her?
What was she doing?
Had she lost her mind completely?
"Two… no three. For the past. One more for the past," she quickly reached out to grab another head and placed it in the row, positioning it exactly the same. "There. One for her, one for him, three for them."
What the fuck?
She didn't even seem like she saw them. She just kept staring into the dead hagravens' eyes.
"Aela?" Vilkas's voice rang through the chamber. At last she tore herself away from the scene and stared at them with her eyes wide. They were full of suppressed tears as she looked at them in disbelief.
"You're here," she gasped. "Good. I… I need you."
"Fucking Void, Aela…" Farkas shook his head at her incredulously. "What is this?"
Aela looked down at the scene again, almost in confusion. As if she now saw the heads for the first time. She stared at them for a while, contemplating something, before her yellow eyes went back to them.
She spoke as if it was obvious. As if they were the strange ones not to understand what she was doing. That one word seemed to hold all the answers to all the questions they might have. She said it so assuredly.
"Repentance."
…
She could still feel his presence.
Sometimes it was like he was never gone. Sometimes he laughed at something funny she spotted, like that one time she observed bandits battle amongst each other and one of them tripped and impaled himself on his own sword. Sometimes he squeezed her shoulder in reassurance before she went towards danger. Sometimes he placed a kiss on her temple when she was trying to fall asleep.
Every single one of these things made the warmth inside her turn into a painful stabbing chill only a second later. A vast emptiness seeped from her core that she knew would never disappear.
He wasn't there.
He was gone.
Dead.
Was it punishment? Fate? Was it their comeuppance to go through this pain, to have her live the rest of her life without him and have him on the eternal hunts alone until she could join him? Was it what they deserved after what they did?
The guilt had been eating her up ever since that day – ever since she saw Aeyrin's tormented expression.
It wasn't how that was supposed to happen.
She was supposed to be stronger. She was supposed to be invincible.
Not broken.
Skjor kept saying that she'd come around and understand what a gift they'd given her, but then Vilkas and Farkas returned from their meeting with her.
Everything went wrong. They took her powers, they made her weak and they destroyed her spirit. Aela couldn't stop thinking about that.
Maybe it was her fault that he was gone now. Maybe she had been distracted ever since that happened. Maybe if she wasn't, Gallow's Rock wouldn't have been the end of Skjor.
She still remembered when she saw him there, on the ground. She still remembered the emptiness in his eyes and the blood on his fur.
They got him.
And she wasn't even with him, she wasn't even protecting him. She was running around that complex, trying to take out her frustration on those fucking werewolf hunters.
The horrors she had seen in that place… werewolves tortured and experimented on. And that was where he died. In a horrible place like this.
She had to get him out of there. Once everyone was dead, save for her, she took him in her arms and ran outside with him onto the Whiterun plains. That was the place they loved. That was where they ran together, slept together, hunted together.
That was where he would rest. Like the hunter he was, not… not like the victim of those scum.
She mourned him privately, silently, but the mourning never stopped. It would never end. She would never stop feeling him around and she would never be able to fill the void that consumed her every time she realized it wasn't him. It was just a memory.
She brought only rage and his armor back to Jorrvaskr. She left the plate to her Shield-siblings, to let them do whatever ceremonies they wanted with it. It didn't matter anymore. Her goodbye would never come. Her sorrow would never find closure.
And at first, she blamed the hunters. The Silver Hand.
All her energy was directed at them – at seeking her revenge. She went everywhere, she hunted them all down, unceasing, always fighting. That was the way. Those monsters needed to die.
'Monsters'. It's what Aeyrin called her and Skjor. Aela was convinced she just didn't understand.
Now… not so much.
Maybe she was right. Not about werewolves being the monsters, but about Aela and Skjor. Maybe they were monsters. Aela was at least. For everything she had done.
Kodlak warned her. He told her revenge was not the answer to her grief. But she didn't listen. If only she had listened, she may not have caused another tragedy.
But she continued, never stopping her hunts and her attacks. Until she finally provoked them enough that they'd retaliate.
Kodlak was lost. And she was not even there to help in the battle. None of the Circle were. Maybe that was intentional.
But his blood was on her hands.
The only thing she could do after that was… this.
"One for her, one for him, three for them," she repeated once more, staring at the empty-eyed heads in front of her. Those shriveled up disgusting severed heads. They were the answer. "I destroyed her, killed him, betrayed them. It's repentance. Only way to make things better."
"I don't understand," Vilkas shook his head at her.
She still wasn't sure if he was really there or if she was getting delirious. The battle was rough. She got shocked and frozen several times. It was lucky she managed to avoid the flames, but the lightning burns were still there on some spots of her back. But she did it. She killed these witches. It was going to save them all.
For a moment she just stared at the scene, trying to get out of her daze. She watched the heads for the longest time. There were three more aside from the five. That was it. Those were all the chances. It was… tragic. There may have been thousands before them who wanted to be saved too, but they wouldn't get to be. Ever.
Saved. She never believed taking away the gift would save anyone. But she was wrong. It wasn't always a good thing. It wasn't always the right thing to wield this power.
The cave looked strange. More than she remembered. It was so silent and dark. There was light coming from Farkas's torch now, illuminating the three… no two… people that interrupted her daze. Farkas and Vilkas. Didn't they come with someone else too?
Oh. Soon enough, Mjoll was there, rushing back to them with Aela's pack and armor gathered in her arms. Good. Aela wasn't entirely crazy yet to be imagining people who weren't there.
Except for Skjor.
"Aela, can you hear me?" Vilkas scowled at her in concern. "What are you doing? What are you repenting for?"
Didn't he hear? She just said it. As Mjoll placed her things next to her carefully, Aela gave Vilkas a frustrated look.
"I destroyed her. I killed him. I betrayed th… I betrayed you," she lowered her eyes and shook her head at the last bit. It was still hard to understand that they were here. She thought they would leave her. She thought she'd never see them again.
But maybe they chased after her to prevent another disaster borne of her rampage.
That sounded likely.
"Who did you destroy?" Vilkas's scowl deepened even more. Wasn't the answer obvious?
"Aeyrin." She ruined her. She had one chance to make it right. Nothing would be made completely right, ever again. But she had to at least try to undo her mistakes as best as she could. This was the beginning of it all. She thought she was helping, but she was just destroying a life. She was so consumed by what power she thought she was bestowing. And she was also fascinated by the fact that she would be bringing over one from Stendarr's fold. Pathetic. What would it even help? An unwilling hunter would never become a formidable one. She should have known. She shouldn't have been so arrogant.
Vilkas watched her with a surprised expression. What? Did he think she didn't realize this? She expressed her regret before. He knew she regretted it. Was it really that shocking for him? Maybe… maybe he thought she only had rage and revenge on her mind now. It was… a fair assumption.
"Who did you kill?"
The next question sent a pang of stabbing pain through her chest. It was all so fresh. So recent. She could still hardly believe that this happened.
"Kodlak."
Their Harbinger's death was on her. There was no question about it. She provoked the Silver Hand and they actually attacked Jorrvaskr. When she heard the news, she didn't spend much time there. She knew only one thing.
She knew what he wanted.
She stole his Sovngarde.
She needed to make it right.
She spent the only time she did in Jorrvaskr in Kodlak's room. And there she dug and searched for any and all his records and research. She knew that he and Vilkas were searching for the cure. She needed to finish this.
The next thing she knew, she was in Winterhold, turning the library upside down to find any trace of the source of their curse. The witches from Solstheim. She discussed helping with the cure with Kodlak while he was still alive. She wasn't good at research, but she asked him to include her when there was more to be done. She wanted to help cure Aeyrin.
Now that he was dead, she had to take things into her own hands. Maybe she should have talked to Vilkas. Kodlak kept her updated and she knew what their next step was – the access to the College of Winterhold.
The Companions never really cooperated with the mages much. They were two opposing sides of a coin, one might say – two factions, one protecting the people of Skyrim, the other studying them and trying to uncover their secrets. But now Aela needed their help.
She knew Vilkas was to go to the College, but that plan was interrupted by Kodlak's death.
And so she went in his stead.
She told the Arch Mage what she was. She told her the intention of curing her fellows, departed or not. And the Arch Mage agreed to give her access to the library. In exchange for one of her mages studying Aela and possibly doing some experiments.
It was a small price to pay.
A few transformations, some blood samples, taking some spells being cast at her. It was all worth it.
And while the Orc librarian almost killed her for not being orderly in his library, she finally found the obscure answer she'd been looking for.
She knew exactly what to do.
And this was just the beginning. The Glenmoril coven. Witches from Solstheim that spread Hircine's curse on the people of the island.
The source of the Companions' gift.
"You said… you betrayed us," Vilkas continued scowling at her in concern.
"We were supposed to be brothers and sisters. We were supposed to… rely on each other. But I was always right. Never listened. And now we're here."
Vilkas and Farkas exchanged a look. She wasn't sure what she saw – regret, understanding or concern. Maybe all of those at once.
"So… you went to kill some witches and play with their heads?" Farkas raised his brow at her in confusion.
Oh. Right. They didn't know.
Aela looked intently at Vilkas. He would connect the dots. He knew more about this than anyone, maybe save for her now.
"The source of our curse needs to be burned in the flames of the ancestors who brought it to us," she explained. "The source…" She looked down on the severed heads again.
"The 'source'?" Vilkas stared at her in shock. "The witch coven. This… these are the witches? You found them?"
"I went to Winterhold. I made a deal with the Arch Mage. Now I know how to make things right."
"Vilkas, what's going on?" Mjoll interrupted the exchange with concern.
"Aela found a way to cure our lycanthropy," Vilkas let out an astonished gasp. Like it was hard to believe that this was really possible now. They had the source. They had the witches. And they knew what to do with them.
"Do you… do you want to cure yourself, Aela?" Mjoll raised her brow in surprise.
"No," she shook her head. She had thought a lot about this and it always led her to the same conclusion. Never.
For one, the heads… there were only eight of them. Five of them needed to be used for her repentance. And how could she, after all she'd done, just… take one for herself after? Especially when… this was never her wish. Her gift was never a regret. Her regrets were only in how she spread the gift and focused on it in the wrong ways.
And, perhaps even more importantly, there was Skjor. Sure, she could cure the both of them now, but she didn't want to. It was not what he wanted. They both planned to run the Hunting Grounds together when their time came. They had no idea his time would come so soon, and because of her. But she would not abandon that plan. And besides, if he blamed her for his death as much as she blamed herself, it was only right to face him.
Forever.
"I want to cure those that deserve it. That want it," she nodded in determination. "One for her. One for him. Three for them."
"You want to cure Aeyrin. Kodlak. And… us?" Vilkas apparently needed to make sure. As if that was necessary.
"Of course. Isn't that what you want?"
Vilkas and Farkas looked at each other again. Maybe it was just talk. Maybe they weren't sure. Maybe now when they were faced with the actual possibility, they were uncertain.
But after a spell, they both nodded at each other in determination.
"It is," Vilkas nodded. "And the pup and Kodlak need the same."
"What… what did you do with Kodlak?" Aela asked uncertainly. She wasn't sure why this was important to her, but she hoped she didn't miss the ceremonies. She needed to say goodbye. But not like this.
"Nothing yet. We… rushed to find you so that… more harm wouldn't come at our door," Vilkas sighed. "The departing rites were postponed."
"Good. Because… they should be done right. They should be done when we know he's in his Sovngarde," Aela nodded in determination.
"I agree," Vilkas smiled softly.
"You said 'three for them'," Farkas suddenly remembered. "There's only two of us."
"Your… father. I thought you'd want…" Aela answered nervously. Maybe she was making decisions again for people without knowing. Maybe she was trying to decide what was best for them again, just like she had with Aeyrin, ruining her life in the process.
"Yes," Vilkas instantly nodded. "Yes. Three for us." He seemed so… relieved. Aela worried she felt uncertainty from him at first, maybe even reluctance. But that was possibly just disbelief at how close this really was.
No more werewolves. It would be tough to part with that power, wouldn't it? Aela couldn't even imagine it. They could wait. At least with the brothers. Not with Kodlak and not with Aeyrin. But they didn't need to cure them all right now.
They could decide on their own. She shouldn't do this for them.
"The flames of our ancestors? Is that what I think it is?" Vilkas raised his brow.
Of course he knew. If there was anyone who knew everything about the Companions, their traditions and legends, it was him.
"The Tomb of Ysgramor, yes," Aela nodded. A flame burned brightly there for each member of the Circle – to eternally symbolize the fire that filled their souls. Aela had no idea how to even imagine it. How many flames would be there? And how could they tell which one was whose?
But they would likely find out in that place.
"Hmm… what did you read about the burning ritual, exactly?" Vilkas tapped his chin curiously.
"There was a lot. About the flames burning there and holding the wolven spirits. And about how burning the source would lure the spirit out to be destroyed. The flames would take a piece of us as a sacrifice," Aela explained as she finally registered her armor beside her. Maybe she should dress herself already. Mjoll rushed to make her comfortable, likely, but her nakedness was really the least of her concerns now.
"Hmm… a piece of us. Probably a personal item that needs to be burned in the flames to lure the right spirit," Vilkas pondered.
Oh. Wait, really?
"I… thought it meant 'piece of us' as the… werewolf. That's the piece of us that will be sacrificed," Aela shrugged.
"Maybe. But I suspect a ritual depicting the destruction of a curse would not consider the curse itself to be a big sacrifice," Vilkas shrugged.
"We should get some personal items to be sure before we head out to the tomb," Mjoll pointed out. "No reason to traipse back and forth needlessly."
That was a good idea. And… did she say 'we'?
"Are you coming with us, Mjoll?" Aela asked curiously.
"If… if you'll have me," the warrior gave her a small smile. "There might be dangers there that I could help battle. And… I want to see the wolf boys off before they change," she winked at Vilkas slyly.
"Yeah. We should give our wolves a proper sendoff," Farkas nodded. "They served us well. They were part of us."
"True," Vilkas agreed. "Well then, we go to Whiterun to get personal items, just to be sure, and then… then we finish this. For ourselves. For Kodlak. And for the pup."
For everyone that needed the pain Aela had caused undone.
It was only right. Maybe then her own turbulent soul would ease.
Even if the void left there after Skjor still remained.
Author's Note:
If you're a bit confused about Mjoll's presence here and her story with Aerin, check out the side one-chapter story Ice Princess – chapter 9 in Second Book Extras.
It was a very disturbing one ;) This chapter deals a bit with the aftermath of the side story, so if you hadn't read it before, enjoy the prequel :)
And thank you all for still reading and hopefully still enjoying this fic :)