I exit the chapel's undercroft, having finished the duty of laying an elderly man to rest. It is nearly high noon, and the chapel is full of the citizens of Bruma. As one, they rise and turn to face me. I smile at them, but it falters as I see the looks of hatred and fear on their faces.
"Monster!"
"Kill it!"
"By the gods, a beast!"
"Don't let it get away!"
"Die filthy beast!"
The hateful cries start, and don't stop, mingling together, the volume rising until it surrounded me. I close my eyes fearfully, clamping my hands to my ears in hope to block out the sound, but my ears are no longer mine, and claws dig into my fur. I reopen my eyes and look down, seeing the brown furred body of a monster. I let out a scream of terror, but a howl comes out of my jaw.
A hammer from a carpenter slams into the side of my head, dazing me as I stumble to the side, my beastly arms holding me up. I let out whimpers as I turn to try to flee, but the exit is blocked by the guards, their bows and swords at the ready to end me. Then, the mob is upon me, fear and pain all I can feel.
...
I awake with a startle, the darkness of the room surrounding me. Feeling crushed by the weight of the gloom, I manage to light a candle, my heart still pounding with fear from my nightmare. I have never suffered one so vividly. I fear being away from the chapel this long has diminished my connection to the Divines. I stumble out of bed and to my pack, pulling out prayer beads.
"Oh sweet Divines, have mercy on me, I beg of you. I only desire to help the people of Nirn. Please, allow me a safe haven once more, in this room. Lord Akatosh, may my time in this cold and harsh land be blessed. Lord Arkay, may my life continue on to allow the people worship and guidance. Lady Dibella, please allow my prayers to reach you. Lord Julianos, please guide me with your wisdom through these troubling times. Lady Kynareth, may the air continue to enter me so I may continue my calling. Lady Mara, allow me to continue my compassion for the people of this land. Stendarr, please have mercy upon my damned soul. Lord Zenithar, my work is not yet finished."
Feeling more calm after my prayers being sent to the Divines, I exhale shakily and I wipe the few tears from my eyes. Just a few more hours and I can work on adding proper shrines to this room, so I may sleep without such horrid nightmares, for I fear they may continue to worsen the longer I am separated from the Gods.
I climb back into bed, the beads still clutched in my hand. I bring them to my chest, and pray for sleep to rejoin me, and after some time, I am granted my wish, as I slip off to sleep once more. Dreamless.
...
I awake to a knock at my door.
"Just a moment please," I call as I hastily change out of my nightclothes and into my priestess robes, the thick fabric fitting snugly to my frame. I slip on a simple pair of shoes, and open my door. A gleaming steel chest-plate greets me, causing me to tilt my head back to meet the gaze of one of the warriors from Harbinger Kodlak's room.
"Skjor told me to fetch you for Kodlak. He didn't say what for."
"That is quite alright Sir Knight, I am able to see Harbinger Kodlak now."
He laughs, his head tilted back as a hand comes to his stomach.
"Sir Knight? I'm a companion, not a knight. There are no knights in Skyrim. I'd ask my brother Vilkas to be sure though, he should know for sure. You don't have to be so fancy either, I'm Farkas," he finishes with a slap on my shoulder, causing me to stumble a little, as he is as strong as he looks. He sheepishly mumbles an apology and begins leading me back to Harbinger Kodlak's room. I admit, I am a little embarrassed about assuming him, Farkas, to be a knight, but I'm glad he didn't take offence as some would.
"See ya around," Farkas waved, as he turned and headed down the hallway, leaving me outside the Harbinger's room. I meekly knock, as the last time I had seen the elderly man, I had broken down in front of him. I hear him grant me entry into his quarters, and shyly enter, closing the door quietly behind me.
"I was told you wished to see me, Harbinger?" My hands wringing in the fabric of my pale peach robes.
Kodlak set his quill down, my eyes straying to the open book in front of him, the ink drying.
"Seeing as you'll be the Companions' healer, I'm sure you've noticed by now that we don't have the proper equipment for you to do that, and we can't have you wandering the city in search of a station that'll let you do your job. So I've sent Vilkas to go purchase some, and they'll be installed into the room across from yours. I've also let Aela know that on her hunts to bring back some alchemy ingredients." he pauses, his gaze directed at my fumbling hands.
"No need to be so nervous child, speak your mind."
I quickly nod, "I need some shrines to the Divines with me, I fear I will be unable to do my duty properly without a connection to the gods for guidance." He strokes his beard, curiosity in his eyes as he leans back leisurely in his chair.
"Imperial pantheon or Nordic?" That simple question had me stumped. Is there not just the eight Divines? Which pantheon is the one I know? I've never heard of the Nordic pantheon, nor the Imperial one. I've only known the Divines.
"Could you please elaborate, Sir…? Is there not just the eight Divines?" I humbly ask, sounding foolish to my own ears. A priestess not knowing the gods. Shameful.
"Imperial then. The Nordic pantheon has Shor, Kyne, and Tsun, to name a few. Most of Skyrim prays to them, as well as a few of the Gods from the Imperial pantheon that you follow. I figured with you being a kinsman, a Nord, that you'd know your people's gods, but it is not always the case. You grew up in Cyrodiil, where they taught you their gods. No need to be embarrassed, you're still in your youth, and you came from a sheltered life," Kodlak smiles warmly, dousing some of my shame at being so ignorant.
"The shrines will be installed into your room, but for now, you're to get settled in, tonight you'll begin your training of controlling the Beastblood with Skjor. Also, I recommend getting to know Tilma, she's been around just a little longer than I have, she can tell you all you need to know about the companions. She's usually in the kitchens upstairs in the main hall. Just follow the smell of food being prepared."
Being dismissed, I bowed before turning on my heel, closing the door behind me once more. Follow the smell of food, and I'll find Tilma. I hope she isn't as intimidating as the Warriors, but seeing as this is Skyrim, the chances of that are low… not to mention I have to prepare for what is to come tonight.
23rd of First Seed, 4E 201
Tilma is such a darling old woman. I've learned much from her, and I've been assisting her with her cleaning and cooking. I believe I've found at least one dear friend in this province. She may be elderly, but she's as healthy as a bear. I've learned that the twins, Farkas and Vilkas, joined the companions as young boys, and that Farkas is a people's person, while Vilkas is a book's person. Aela and Skjor have an off and on relationship together, pity Mara has not blessed them with marriage as of yet, but they seem happy. Well, not really happy, but rough around the edges, sweet to Tilma. Everyone is. Tilma has a fresh batch of sweetrolls and apple dumplings in the cooking furnace, and she shooed me away when she started cleaning up while they baked. So I decided to write a bit before it's time to bring the food out for the evening meal. I'm dreading what is to come after the meal though… I'll have to be trained by Skjor to control this damnable curse, but I have no idea what is to come, but I pray that the Divines guide me. Besides that, I've heard that my new stations have been brought to the room across from mine, I'll have a check later tonight, hopefully after the training. I haven't heard if the shrines had made it to my room as of yet, but I don't believe they have. It's not like people have spare shrines laying about. I hope it doesn't take too long for them to be commissioned, as I fear my daily and nightly prayers will not prevent my nightmares. Perhaps, with the training, I'll be taught how to prevent the night terrors? Food dishes are starting to finish, I must go to help Tilma.
"Tilma? Do you want me to start dishing up the food to be brought out to the main hall?" I asked, my journal set aside while the ink dried. The elderly woman glanced up from the washbasin she stationed herself at to wash the dirtied dishes, a gentle smile coming to her face.
"That would be helpful dear, set the dishes on a platter to make it easier to carry them out, it's nearly time to serve them. Would you mind also setting up the casks of mead? Set the tankards to the side of them once you do." With a duty given, I start doing as asked, placing baked potatoes, grilled leaks, an assortment of elk meat from haunches to strips, all cooked and seasoned, onto a large silver platter. Then, with all of the platters set up and ready to be brought out once Tilma finished cleaning the dishes, I started moving the barrels full of alcoholic beverages out to the main hall, setting them up around the large table, as well as some on the smaller tables, so everywhere there was a source of drink to be in reach. Then I go back to the kitchen and help Tilma carry out the platters full of steaming, freshly cooked food.
...
Before I realised it, the evening meal was already over and done with, the dishes and cleaning all finished. Which meant I had to proceed with my first training… I pray and hope that I do not have to face anything too grueling, such as hard labor. My priestly duties rarely called for such tasks, so I am unfamiliar with much related to physical strength or endurance. Exiting the kitchen, I spot Farkas observing a drinking contest between a blonde, bearded Nord, and a scrawny Dark Elf, sporting some fading bruising to the face. Meekly walking toward the large warrior and drunk companions, I slightly bow, old customs are hard to break.
"Excuse me, Farkas, do you know where Skjor is? Harbinger Kodlak told me to speak with him."
He raises an eyebrow as he turns to face me, "Skjor is in the training yard out back. I'll never get used to your fancy talk, Lyra. Not many in Skyrim do it. Especially here in Whiterun." His head nods to the back doors when he mentioned where Skjor is, before shaking his head in mild humor at the way I speak, causing my face to heat up. Parting ways with a haste thank you, I walk out the back doors and into the crisp night air, my breath fogging up in front of me as I exhale. With it being spring, the sky is still darkened early. The stars above shined brightly, the moons waning, nearly becoming fully dark, so the night isn't well lit besides the lanterns burning and the starlight.
"Took you long enough to get out here," a voice that came from the left made my hand fly up to my chest as I gasped.
"By the gods, you scared me, I didn't notice you there."
Ignoring his scoff at my first statement, I continued, "I was told that I am to be trained? What will we be doing? Where? I don't think out here would be appropriate… what if someone sees? Or, by Stendarr's mercy, someone gets hurt? What then?" He puts a gauntleted hand up, making me trail off in my questioning worries.
"First, you talk to much. Second, I'm not an idiot, we won't be training out here. Third, you need to keep your mouth shut and just listen to me, unless you have something actually meaningful to say that isn't just nonsense questions or worries," stepping away from the wall, he starts heading out from under the sheltered area and to the training yard, gruffly beckoning me to follow, then he made a left to the path that led back out front, before stopping next a wall of stone. Without saying a word, he glanced at me, as he slid his hand into a crevice. When he did so, a muffled grinding sound, of stone on stone, and a click was heard, before a hole with a tunnel into the stone cliff face opened up.
"Keep up. Watch your step, I don't want you stumbling onto me."
"How can you see? It's impossibly dark in here…" I mumbled under my breath, my hand holding onto the wall as I followed him deeper into the tunnel, the ground sloping slightly under our feet, thankfully dry or else the stone would be even more difficult to tread on if it were to be wet and slick. Before too much time passed, we enter a very dimly lit room, a large ornate basin in the middle of the room. Small pedestals lining against the left side of the room, all empty. I open my mouth to question where we were, but I'm cut off, and my question is answered.
"This is the Underforge. It's where we will be doing some of your training, the more minor bits. Now, to start. Your robes, off and put them aside," he raises a brow as I begin to object.
"Or would you rather have them in shreds when you leave here?" Deciding that it wouldn't do well if I left this, Underforge, in tattered clothing in the chilly night, I turn away and go to a corner.
"Do you mind turning away?" my seemingly normal and sensible question got an answer of him rolling his eyes while he turned away, muttering about how the Beastblood is a prideful power that should be relished in, not hated, and the ritual of changing into the wolf form willingly is especially invigorating. Ignoring him, I undress reluctantly, not enjoying being in the nude in the cold of the cave, as well as being alone with a man. I whisper my prayers to the Divines that this will go well, and not end too badly as I turn, my still warm robes clutched to my front to cover my modesty.
"I-I've undressed, what will happen next?" as soon as the words left my lips, he faces me, an almost feral grin on his face as he starts undoing his armor. Fear overrides my senses as I back up against the terribly freezing stone wall as the worst comes to mind.
"Now, you get to see what you've been suppressing," he states, my eyes staring at the wall directly behind him to avoid my gaze coming in contact with his body. I flinch when loud popping sounds starts, coming directly from him, and my gaze shifts, his limbs and torso morphing into an inhuman monster. Endless prayers leave me, my hands gripping very tightly to the fabric of my robe as the stone wall scraped my back from the pressure of my body being pressed against it.
Shaking like a young child that woke from a nightmare, I stare in horror as the man changes, reminding me of how I contracted this curse, yet, I cannot look away for fear of being attacked. I can not outrun the beast if I tried, if there was even a way of escape, the entrance to the tunnel we had entered through had slid shut behind us. I am trapped in a confined space with an unnatural being, oh sweet Divines, guide me through this. Preparing for the attack, I shut my eyes.
The cavern is pierced with a howling roar, then silence, as I prepare for pain. Nothing comes, and when I'm about to peek my eyes open to receive answers, my stomach clenches in an agonising knot, and I hunch over in pain, crying out from the familiar intensity. No. No no no no. The moons are not yet at their fullness, I should not be suffering from the change. I cannot.
"What did… what did you do to me?" I force out between my clenched teeth, already painfully changing to sharp points. A beastly growl is my answer, my crumpled robes falling from my hands as my fingers curl in before stretching and changing into beastly hands, as are the rest of my limbs. Thick hair starts covering my deformed body as I become the beast.
"I beg your… forgiveness, oh mighty Divines…" I whisper, my words barely recognisable as speech due to the half formed muzzle of a beast being in its place, my consciousness starting to fade.
...
Silver eyes, one blind and scarred, stare with interest and disappointment as the small priestess in front of him suppresses her calling. He senses the wolf spirit in her begging to be in harmony and to be in contact with another of its kind. The air is thick with her fear as her body changes into that of a wolf. Not even the full form such as his, where he retains his bipedal stance, hers a quadruped, a mere animal compared to him. Of course, significantly larger than the feral beasts of the wilds. The transformation is nearly complete. Given that it is a forced change that is unaccepted by the woman, instead of a natural one - still no less unaccepted - the form is of this pitiful creature rather than his own figure.
A large wolf with thick, fawn colored fur, stood panting before him, easily towered over with his height in his Beast form. Taking a step forward, his large claws scraping against the stone caused the wolf to look up in startled interest, knowing exactly what he is, even without having ever seen another or her kind before with her own eyes. As her eyes finish examining himself, he sees them glance to the path behind him, leading to the plains of Whiterun, carrying the scent of stags, hares, and farmers. Her eyes dilate, her nose inhaling deeply, her prey drive strong. A good sign, she is strong spirited, but she has no control.
The large silver furred wolf lets out a rumbling growl as a warning, the smaller female glancing warily, trying to edge around the stone cave towards the opening. Within a few moments, the small wolf attempted an escape, only to be swatted by a large clawed hand against the stone wall in a sprawl of fur and limbs. The yelp from when the beastly hand made contact echoed, before being replaced with muffled whines as the female readjusted herself to her feet, fur ruffled and messed, a submissive snarl on her muzzle, her ears flattened back, as she lowered her rear and arched her back in submission, tail tucked tightly between her legs. She finally figured out that he is not just a mere being that is better than herself, he is the one in charge.
When Kodlak had stepped down as the pack leader - even though he is still the Companions leader - Skjor had taken his place. For good reason. Besides being massive in stature, he had the qualities of a natural alpha; confidence, strategy, experienced, and he fully accepted the Beastblood as a gift.
He refocused his attention on the submitting she-wolf, approving that she knew her place. The lowest rank, not even a part of the pack. He huffed when he figured that she would be in the foreseeable future if their training went well. Only if she accepted the Beastblood, of not, she's on her own as soon as she controls the Blood like the others can. He steps toward the still submissive wolf, inhaling the scent worry starting to ebb off of the beast like steam. Time to start the actual training of teaching the wolf half of the priestess. If she liked it or not.
Note: Thank you for reading and reviewing. As a disclaimer, writing is only a hobby, as I do have a life outside of this story. Thank you for your patience. I'll start writing the next chapter whenever I'm able to, this chapter took a long while, as I'd write a bit, take a break for however long, write more, etc. And this is a shorter chapter than usual…. but I figured this was a good place to end it at. I am taking some creative liberties at some of the Lore that isn't very specific.