CHAPTER EIGHTY: HONOUR
Driftshade Refuge sat in a snowy valley, south-east from the small sea-side village of Dawnstar. It had been snowing heavily when Wyldfyre and Vilkas had arrived at the old fort at midday. But now, in the fading light of the evening, the moon shone bright and clear as the two Werewolves exited the ruin, covered in blood that was not their own. Firstly one and then the other began to shimmer and return to their human forms. Wyldfyre turned away and quickly put her armour back on as Vilkas did the same. As they dressed, neither of them spoke of the massacre they had just delivered to every single Silverhand member inside. Although her grief had fuelled her anger and set her on a terrible rampage of revenge and destruction, Wyldfyre felt that what they had just done was terribly wrong. They had arrived at the fort in record speed, deciding to take it in their beast forms. No-one inside had a chance of defending themselves; faced with two Weres maddened by grief. Wyldfyre shuddered as she remembered their screaming and the blood lust that came over her. She would have lost herself to it, if it had not of been for Vilkas snapping her out of it.
“We should not have done this” she said then, strapping on her sword, pulling the belt tighter than necessary. Vilkas remained silent for a moment.
“It’s done now” he answered her. “We need to get back for the funeral” They both left with no further word to each other and soon they parted ways, feeling the need to be alone with their thoughts. Wyldfyre wandered through the wilderness, her instincts alone driving her horse back towards home; while she let her thoughts wander. With Kodlak gone who would lead the Companions? Who would guide the circle? She felt waves of guilt wash over her. She felt guilty for not being at the Mead Hall when the Silverhand attacked. She also felt a terrible remorse for what she and Vilkas had just done. Most of the Silverhand members back in that fort had not even been responsible for the Hall attack. Not that they were innocent, for she and Vilkas had come across many dead or dying Weres inside the fort when they stalked through its hallways and rooms.
She struggled with herself, sometimes seeing perfect logic in what they had done, and at other times crying out loud for her part in the slaughter. Would Aela have reacted in this way? Or would she have left that fort in high spirits, gladdened at the revenge she had delivered in Kodlak’s name? Wyldfyre felt sick to her very core, vowing that she would never change into that beast again. She kicked her horse into a run, letting her cloak flap open and the chill wind bite at her like Ice Wraith teeth. She needed to feel pain, she deserved it.
*****
It was night time when she reached Whiterun. Opening the gates she was surprised to find everything still looked the way it did before. Like nothing had changed. She frowned as she walked along the busy street back up to the Hall. Once or twice she received a nod from passersby as they offered their condolences. She hated seeing the sadness they expressed not reaching their eyes and so she hurried on to the Hall before she said something she would later regret.
“Welcome back sister” Aela greeted her inside the Hall. They embraced and Aela studied Wyldfyre for a moment, narrowing her eyes at the pain she found on her shield sister’s face “It’s done” she simply said, as if that would make Wyldfyre feel better about it. She left Aela and went below to the dorms. She walked slowly to her and Farkas’s room but then slopped as she passed by the door that lead to Kodlak’s rooms. Checking to see no-one was about she carefully pushed open the door and slipped silently in. Someone had kept the candles burning in the Harbinger’s rooms and Wyldfyre stood there, breathing in the musty smells of old books and smoke. She ran her fingers over the books that Kodlak had stacked in a bookshelf over the years, most of their covers worn with repeated usage.
She made her way into the second room, the bedroom and here she faltered, drawing in a shuddering breath. The covers of the bed were drawn down, waiting for the Harbinger to slip in between them. On the table beside the bed was an open book and a quill resting on its pages; as if Kodlak had been writing in it when the Silverhand had attacked. She moved over to it and picked up the book, removing the quill; its tip now coated in dried ink. As Wyldfyre read the book her eyes widened and she sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. The old, leather bound book was Kodlak’s personal journal and he had written about her. Her eyes filled with tears as he wrote of their first meeting and then his fondness for her and the other members of the circle, his fears for them all while they still had the beast blood inside them and his indecision about asking her to go to the Glenmoril Witches.
She read on and on, into the night, her eyes growing drowsy. The last thing she read before exhaustion overcame her was an entry where Kodlak described in detail how the witch heads could be used in a ritual of cleansing. But her dulled senses did not fully understand what she had just read. She took the book back to her room and shed her clothes before slipping under the covers and snuggling into a sleeping Farkas, who woke enough to kiss her forehead and pull her closer to him. She did not feel comforted though.
*****
Wyldfyre stared into the flames, not daring to look upon the funeral pyre that was the final resting place of Kodlak Whitemane. Eorlund had delivered his Eulogy and now the crowd was thinning out as one by one, people left to go back to their daily lives. The Skyforge seemed to be alive as the flames leapt up the sides of the pyre, like somehow Kodlak’s spirit gave it a new strength. She looked up when Aela spoke.
“Brothers, Sister, let us retire to the Underforge” She led the way as the circle members filed into the sacred chamber underneath the Skyforge.
“That was all right” said Farkas “I guess, as far as funerals go” he sat against one of the stone alters, Wyldfyre noticing his leg still gave him some trouble.
“Was it though?” Vilkas asked, pacing back and forth “Was it really what Kodlak would have wanted?”
“What do you mean?” Aela asked, frowning.
“He did not want to die with the beast blood in him!” Vilkas spat out angrily “We all know this”
“He feared for all of us” Wyldfyre sat up, still clutching Kodlak’s journal. She had read it again that morning and was now even more sure of what she had to do. She just had to convince the others. She stood and held up the book. “Inside these pages are Kodlak’s true thoughts on this and he did not wish to be a slave to Hircine for the rest of his spirit life” Vilkas had stopped pacing and she had all their attention. “I know what it is like there and I do not want to go back, so why should we condemn our Father to it?”
“But to be chosen by Hircine is a blessing!” Aela stated. Aiden nodded in agreement and Wyldfyre shook her head.
“You can’t possibly think that Aela? Brother?”
“I do!” Aela said heatedly. “I long for the day when my death takes me to his hunting grounds. It is how it should be.”
“Aela, I don’t think you would be saying that if you knew....”
“Well, not all of us have the luxury of that experience, or a choice, Dragonborn” Aela narrowed her eyes at Wyldfyre.
“Hey, back off Aela” Farkas came to stand by Wyldfyre’s side and the room went quiet. Aela immediately regretted turning her grief on her Shield Sister.
“Sister, I..” Aela stepped forward.
“I didn’t ask you to do a deal with him” Wyldfyre said quietly, her lip trembling.
“I know, I’m sorry, it’s just...” Aela struggled with what to say as Aiden placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. Wyldfyre took a deep breath and continued on.
“We know Kodlak’s wishes and I think we should fulfil them.”
“How do you propose we do that?” Vilkas asked her.
“In here” Wyldfyre held up the journal “Is a detailed ritual in cleansing the beast blood from someone. And it just so happens that I have the main ingredient.” She turned to Farkas and gave him an apologetic look “When you went back to Whiterun, Azaril and I went on a secret mission. Kodlak himself asked me to fetch them for him”
“Fetch what?” Vilkas asked, stepping forward, intrigued.
“The heads of the Glenmoril Witches” she smiled at them all.
*****
“OW!” Wyldfyre gritted her teeth as the flat of Azaril’s practice blade found her shin.
“Sorry My Lady!” he apologised to her for the tenth time. Wyldfyre had found some time with the newest member of the Companions and they had been sparring in the practice yard for an hour. Azaril had proven himself to be a skilled swordsman, far more skilled than Wyldfyre and she now bore many bruises from his expert sword wielding.
After the meeting in the Underforge it had been decided that the Circle would travel to Ysgramor’s Tomb to perform the cleansing ritual for Kodlak. None of them knew if it would work on a spirit, but they were all willing to try. Wyldfyre also raised the idea of it not only being an opportunity for Kodlak, given that she had more than one witches’ head.
There were mixed feelings about the matter. Aela and Aiden seemed completely against it, but Wyldfyre wasn’t so sure about the twins. Vilkas had left to talk it over with Lydia which left her with Farkas. He had not really been willing to talk about it, and had retreated down into the dorms for a bath. Wyldfyre knew he would come to her in time, after he thought about it, so she had left him and gone in search of the Dunmer.
“You don’t have to keep apologising every time you land a hit!” she exclaimed, rubbing at her shin. That last blow had hurt more than she would admit.
“I’m sorry!” he said again, then checked himself “Well, I er..”
“It’s fine” she waved it off and walked over to the under-covered area “I think I have had enough punishment for one day” She sat and took the pitcher of water, drinking deeply from it. Azaril took both their practice swords and placed them back onto the weapons rack, and then sat opposite her.
“You did well” he said.
“Ah don’t try to flatter me” she snorted “We both know I need more practice”
“Still, you are better than most Nords with a sword” he tried to reassure her “I have found, in my years, that Nords seem to be most efficient in swinging an axe or warhammer through the air, but lack a certain amount of..Finesse. Were as you, the way you handle that sword..”
“All right!” she laughed “Stop before my head starts growing too big for my body and explodes”. Azaril looked at her wide-eyed.
“I would never wish that upon you My Lady!” he said, completely missing her joke.
“I didn’t... never mind” she shook her head and chuckled.
“So when do you all leave?” He asked her after a moment’s silence.
“We’re not all going” Wyldfyre shook her head. “Farkas and Vilkas are coming. Aela and Aiden will stay behind and watch over the Hall until our return. As for when, well that’s up to the Twins. As soon as they get it together, we leave”
“They are having trouble deciding?” Azaril said in a hushed tone. He knew about the ritual. Wyldfyre nodded.
“I think it is difficult for them. They have had it for so long, it’s a part of them now. But I know Vilkas was talking about wanting another child with Lydia, I think he will decide to do it. Farkas... I’m not sure”
“What about you My Lady?” Wyldfyre sighed.
What about me? She had been thinking of nothing else the past few days. While she liked the powers and super-human strength that came with having the beast blood, she didn’t like how it made her feel, and she definitely didn’t want to go back to the Hunting Grounds. There was also the matter of starting a family. Vilkas and Lydia had managed to produce a baby with half Were blood, but two Weres? It was impossible. She had been with Farkas now for a long time and they had not been careful and still she had not fallen pregnant. Not that she was trying. While she was so caught up in defeating Alduin, having children was out of the question, but now.. well, it was something she thought about more and more often.
“I don’t know Azaril” she said honestly “It’s something I have been thinking about. But it has to be a decision I make with Farkas as well.”
“There is also the matter of the Dragon Cultists” he reminded her.
“I have not forgotten about them” she said darkly. She could no longer put off finding the Cultists and this Miraak they worshipped. Now that Azaril had changed to her side, she had all the information she needed from the Dunmer. It would mean a long journey, leaving Skyrim and setting sail for a place called Solstheim. She was loathing going but she couldn’t risk anyone else getting hurt or killed because of her and those fanatics. Azaril was also keen to return to the Island. Still, she could do nothing until Kodlak’s spirit was set free. And that was not going to happen until Farkas and Vilkas decided what they wanted to do. Wyldfyre stood.
“This has gone on for far too long” she said with determination “It’s either yes or no, but I am going whether they are or not” She strode into the Hall and down into the dorms, calling out for Farkas. Having no answer she searched for him in her mind and found him down in the baths. After shedding her armour she padded barefoot down the halls and slipped into the steaming bathing room, finding Farkas in his usual spot; the furtherest pool in the shadows. She slipped into the hot water and sat there searching his face for a moment while he struggled to put into words what he wanted to say.
“You have not spoken about the Silverhand hideout” he then said to her. Wyldfyre remained silent for minute, images of that day flashing through her mind. Farkas winced as she showed him those images as her eyes remained locked onto his, tears streaming down her face.
“My love” he whispered, moving towards her but she held up a hand.
“No, if you touch me it will undo me and we have to make a decision” she said firmly, scrubbing away at the tears. He nodded, sitting back against the rock. “Tell me what are you thinking?”
“I have been thinking of nothing else” he began slowly “It’s been a part of me for as long as I can remember. It’s not something that I can easily let go”
“I understand” she nodded, but Farkas wasn’t finished.
“But, I know that I have to. Not just for me but for us. What we have, it’s too important to loose, and the love I have for you, it’s.. real and I want more.” He frowned, frustrated as his words tumbled over each other. “I wish I could say what I was thinking...I..”
“I know what you mean my Love” Wyldfyre smiled “I am thinking the same. We have too much love to just keep it to ourselves. We could be normal, be a family...like Vilkas and Lydia”
“Have children” he smiled crookedly, causing her heart to flutter.
“Yes” she smiled as she moved to him and he wrapped her in his arms, squeezing her tight.
“I won’t lie, I will miss it” he said as he breathed in her intoxicating scent.
“I won’t” she said then “I don’t want either of us to go to the Hunting Grounds. Curing you will release you from Hircine’s deal. But that’s not all, I don’t like the way it makes me feel, like I am not in control. I don’t know if it’s the combination of having the Dragon’s blood in me as well, but I am frightened by it Farkas. It’s like anything can set me off and I have this constant uncontrollable rage inside me, threatening to raise its ugly head. I am afraid I’ll do something I will regret, hurt someone I love.. it’s tearing me apart”
“I didn’t realise” Farkas held her in front of him, “I didn’t know it was doing this to you. I’m sorry”
“It’s not your fault. It’s not anybody’s fault. It just happened. If I don’t cure myself I am afraid I will go mad or loose myself to the beast blood completely. I don’t think I could come back from that, not like you did”.
“It’s settled then. We go to Ysgramor’s Tomb and perform the ritual for Kodlak and then on ourselves” Farkas nodded.
“Thank you” she cried wrapping her arms around his shoulders and kissing him. Their kisses turned more passionate and soon they were consumed by the love they had for each other as their bodies become one.
The next day, three set out for Ysgramor’s Tomb. Wyldfyre, Farkas and Vilkas bade farewell to their loved ones and mounted their horses, ready for the long journey ahead of them.