12th of Second Seed, 4E 197

Vilemyr Inn was a welcome sight for my road-weary eyes.

Farkas and I made it into Ivarstead after a hard-fought battle against an infestation of wild hogs near Merryfair Farm in the Rift. The swarm had been breaking down fences, killing livestock, and trampling crops, terrorizing the owners of the farm, so our aid had been called in. Farkas and I dispatched the horde, accepted the payment from the thankful farmers, and made our return trip to Jorrvaskr.

But we'd been marching on empty stomachs for several hours now, so stopping at the tavern in Ivarstead seemed like the logical course of action.

We stepped inside the cozy inn, and my heightened werewolf senses were bombarded all at once with the fragrance of cooking food, the beating of a drum from the songstress performing in the corner, and the rushing blood from at least three of the inn's occupants. I tried to zero in on the good, the sultry crooning from the bard's voice, the delicious aroma of meat sizzling over the open firepit, and the jovial chatter passing between everyone.

Two years into possessing the beast blood, and yet I still struggled to focus on individual senses instead of allowing myself to become overwhelmed by so many all at once.

Farkas and I sat down at an empty table, resting our satchels next to us on the floor. I propped my arms on the table and let my head rest in my dirty hands. I'd done my best to wipe the blood and gore off myself after the fight, but blood caked under my fingernails and stuck in my hair.

A serving girl approached us and set cups of water down on the table. She fixed us with a dazzling smile as she greeted us. "Hail, Companions. On your way to or from work?"

"From," I answered, grabbing the cup in front of me and taking a long swig. The cool water soothed my parched throat, and I released a satisfied sigh. "We need a room for the night, if you have one available."

"Oh, yes." She pressed the tray she'd carried to us against her chest. "We only have single-bed rooms available, though, and seeing as neither of you have bedrolls on your packs...."

"We'll take two rooms, then." I dug into my satchel and paid for one room, then nudged Farkas with my elbow. "Pay up."

"You have enough gold to cover both rooms," he mumbled. "I'll get you back later."

I shot him a quick glare before turning back to the barmaid. "Sorry about him. He can be a bit slow."

Farkas punched me in the back before he begrudgingly reached into his pack to retrieve some coin for his room. He slapped it down on the table next to mine, then crossed his arms and sulked.

"I must say," said the barmaid as she stooped to push the gold onto the tray, "you two are quite handsome for Companions. And so young, too. You must be rather skilled to have ascended to your ranks among them."

I sat up a bit straighter on the bench, tilting my chin toward her. "We practically grew up in Jorrvaskr, so the warrior way is all we've ever known."

"Such a dangerous life, but it suits the two of you well." She cocked her head to one side. "Before I take these coins and get you the rooms keys, do you want anything to eat?"

"Oh, yes, please," said Farkas, rubbing his belly. "I'm starving!"

I rolled my eyes at him. How easily he forgot himself. I procured a few more coins from my bag and placed them on the tray with the others. "Bring us two of whatever's hot, would you, please?"

She smiled at me, nodded, and walked to the bar at the back of the inn.

When she bent down below the bar, I slapped Farkas across the back of his head. "Dumbass. Act like you have some manners, will you?"

He rubbed the back of his head, groaning. "What's the problem? She asked if I was hungry, so I answered her."

"You could've been less of a child about it. Rubbing your growling belly? Seriously, Farkas, you're a grown man."

"I'm sure she's used to riffraff. We're probably the first set of new faces she's seen in a long while."

"All the more reason for you to be on your best behavior. This isn't Jorrvaskr."

By then, the barmaid had returned with two bowls of stew, which she set in front of each of us. Then, she did a quick scan around the tavern before she leaned against the table next to me. "I hope you like the stew. Wilhelm, the innkeeper, let me make it today. He said it was time for me to start helping out more around here, and I've been improving my recipe over the last couple of weeks."

I picked up my spoon, swirled it around in the stew for a moment, then brought it to my lips. The creamy broth was bland, and the bits of meat–which I had no way to identify past the toughness–stuck in my teeth while I tried to chew. Still, I put a smile on my face and flashed it at the woman. "It's nice and hot. Thank you...?"

"Oh, Hesna." She blushed, tucking a strand of auburn hair behind her ear. "And thank you."

Beside me, Farkas cleared his throat. Sounded like he was having just as much trouble choking it down as I was, but the ice-brain lacked the social decorum to hide it better.

But Hesna didn't seem to notice. She was still staring at me. "So, you said that you basically grew up around the Companions. What has that been like for you?"

I shrugged one shoulder as I took a long drink of water to wash the tough bits of vegetables down my through. "Helped us grow stronger than most men our age. I'm set to become the next Master at Arms there before much longer."

"And you?" She glanced at Farkas. "How would you describe your time at the Companions?"

Like me, Farkas shrugged. He had bits of stew broth clinging around his lips, and he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Being part of the inner circle has been a real honor, especially to be as young as we are."

"If you don't mind me asking, how old are you?"

"Twenty-one," I answered. "We're twins, though you can see I got all the looks."

Again, Farkas hit me in the back while Hesna giggled. "We have the same face, you godsdamned braggart," he growled. For a moment, I thought his eyes flashed gold, like his werewolf form was threatening to break free.

"How about some drinks, brother?" I asked to distract him from the surging beast blood in his veins. The last thing we needed was for one of us to lose control and kill everyone in Ivarstead. "I'll even buy the first couple of rounds." I grabbed some more septims and slipped them into Hesna's open hands. "Bring us some mead, please, Hesna."

She blushed again, curling her fingers around the coins before she flounced back to the bar to bring the bottles.

"Get it together, brother," I murmured in a tone too low for normal ears to catch. "Control your beast before it controls you."

He harrumphed, blinked, and his eyes returned to their normal icy blue color. "Fine, fine. I'm in control, but stop making look like an idiot in front of this beautiful woman."

I scoffed. "Oh, please. You're doing a mighty fine job of that yourself. I don't need to do anything to help you."

Hesna returned with four bottles, setting two down in front of each of us.

"Why didn't you bring six?" I asked her, uncorking one of the amber-colored glass bottles and taking a long, refreshing sip. While it didn't taste as smooth as the mead we were used to in Jorrvaskr, it was leagues better than the stew. "I meant for you to join us, girl."

"Oh!" Her cheeks flushed bright red, almost rivaling the fiery color of her hair. "I... I suppose I could join you. Just for one drink."

When she returned from the bar with a bottle of her own, we tucked into our drinks. The first two bottles only gave me appetite for more, so I kept shelling out coin for additional bottles. Farkas followed, trying to keep up with me, but while he was the larger twin, his tolerance was lower than mine. He started nodding off after his fifth bottle of mead, and, after getting a room key from Hesna, he retired to bed.

Hesna had taken to drinking slower, and she had to get up at a few different points to top off waters and bring food to the other patrons, but as night deepened outside, the residents of Ivarstead left to return home. Soon, it was only her and me in the dining area.

"I must say, Vilkas," she began, words slightly slurred and eyes bright, "it's been a long time since I've been around someone as intriguing as you. You're a warrior, yet you seem so educated. You're defying all expectations I had for Companions, except for some."

"In what ways do I meet your expectations?" The mead burned like fire in my belly, but I still finished off my sixth bottle. My fingers tingled, and my head swam, but I willed myself to focus on every word I said. Now wasn't the time to fall into a drunken mess.

"You're awfully big and strong, you carry beautiful weapons with you, and you speak of great deeds you've accomplished since you came into the ranks."

"And what ways have I exceeded your expectations?"

She laughed, the pretty sound echoing through the empty tavern. "Are you trying to get me to stroke your ego, Vilkas?"

"Maybe. It depends."

"On what?"

I flashed her an easy smile. "Is it working?"

She returned my smile with one of her own. "Oh, yes. That's one way you have surpassed my expectations. You're quite charming."

I bowed my head. "And you flatter me. You have a way with words, Hesna. What is a pretty young thing like you doing in some backwater town like Ivarstead when you belong in the Bard's College or The Temple of Dibella in Markarth?"

From underneath her work dress, Hesna produced a Dibellan amulet, letting the flower-shaped pendant rest proudly on her breast. "While I may not be there in person, I try to commune with the goddess here."

I quirked an eyebrow at her. The drinks were starting to get to me, making my head foggy and judgement clouded. "You really are full of surprises."

In her green eyes, a spark flashed. "Perhaps you'd like to know a few more of my surprises?"

Something about her tone left little room to refuse the offer. With my tongue feeling fat, I only nodded, and allowed her to lead me by the hand to my rented room.

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16th of Second Seed, 4E 197

"For the last time, get over it!"

Next to me, Farkas threw his hands in the air. His bare face bent into a scowl, thick brows bending low over his eyes, as he tried his hardest to stare daggers into me.

But I cared not. In the end, he would know I had been in the right. Ignoring his glare, I took another long swig of my mead, before fishing into my pocket to set the small blue gemstone that Hesna had left on my nightstand at the inn. "You're only angry because I got this from her and you did not."

"I could've gotten that from her, if your stupid, arrogant self had stepped aside!"

I rolled my eyes. "And if I had, you would've made a fool of yourself and probably gotten a slap across the face instead of a woman's company. You know nothing about charm, you dolt."

He glowered even deeper at me, lunging at me to snatch the Mark of Dibella from me, but I grabbed it and put it back in my pocket before he could get his fingers near the gemstone's surface.

"I can't stand you sometimes, Vilkas!" he shouted after I shoved him back into his seat. "You think you're so much better than me, but you're not! You got a woman drunk and managed to charm her into your bed, so what? I could'v done that."

I stood up, appetite ruined by the argument. "Don't insinuate that I had to get her drunk for her to fall into my bed instead of yours, you stupid oaf. Look at yourself. You have a simple mind. How would you have come up with the words needed to woo her? You barely take time to groom yourself, letting your hair stay wild and your body stinking. No woman wants to smell like a pig after being with a man." I barked out a harsh laugh. "If I'd let you step in to make a pitiful attempt at charming her, you would've given yourself a stroke trying to come up with the right words–"

With a roar more animal than human, Farkas shoved me backward through the doors leading to the training yard. The mead cup fell out of my hand, cracking across the wood. His meaty hands grabbed the back of my neck, dragging me past the porch and into the yard, where he threw me down on the ground and kicked me in the stomach.

The air left my lungs in a heavy oof! Wheezing, I scrambled to my feet in time to see his eyes blazing gold and his teeth sharpening into fangs.

"You want to settle this?" I gasped as my heart thumped heavy against my ribs. The threat of his beast emerging made my own lash at its cage, and this time, I didn't care if it came free.

Before he could answer, I dashed to the city wall behind Jorrvaskr and heaved myself over it. I dropped down to the other side and took off in a mad dash to the middle of the empty plains, where the dark of night would shield us from being seen.

Behind me, Farkas let out another roar, and I turned my head in time to see him drop to his knees to begin his transformation. His bones snapped, sinews and muscles ripping to make room for the beast form to surface. Dark fur crawled across his darkening skin. In the faint light of the moons, his wolfish eyes reflected red at me.

I stopped in my tracks to allow myself to transform, too. I let out a groan as I felt my heart enlarge, pressing against my ribcage while the bones rushed to make room for the growing organ. I squeezed my eyes shut and hugs my shifting arms across my torso while the rest of the transformation took place, and within seconds, the beast stood in my place.

The pair of lycanthropes raced deeper across the plains, one barely outpacing the other. When the follower finally caught up, the beasts faced each other and began their attack.

Sharp teeth snapped at the necks, tearing out chunks of fur-covered skin with each bite. Their talons slashed wildly in front of each other, the aggressor finding purchase across his brother's chest. The beast keened at the blow, his blood blazing like an inferno, before returned the swipe with one of his own, and he brought it down onto the other's leading leg.

Blood soon coated the ground they stood on as they fought to the death. The smaller of the pair charged forward and planted a shoulder into the other's chest, but the downed wolf slashed a paw across his face, nearly raking his left eye out of its socket.

The wolf on top grabbed the other by the ears and pulled with all his might. His brother howled in pain, pressing his hind legs against his stomach and pushing his attacker off while he dragged his claws down his brother's arms to get him to let go.

Stumbling to the ground, the smaller wolf snarled at his brother and prepared to make another leap, but two more wolves joined the fray. A mated pair, male and female. The male had only one eye, and he shoved the larger of the brother wolves with his shoulder, leading him to a copse of trees to the east. When the wolf tried to protest, to turn around to finish the fight, the older male snapped at his heels and drove him onward.

Meanwhile, the she-wolf nipped the remaining wolf in the shoulder amd pressed him to the woods in the west. She tilted her snout into the air as they ran, and he, too, caught the scent of a herd of elk nearby.

Together, they hunted. He rushed the herd from the back, while she veered to the left to lie in wait after they picked off the weakest elk. He snapped at the animals' ankles, drawing fearful cries from deep in their throats. His own blood left a trail behind him, but he ignored the stench of the coppery fluid left behind in favor of the sweet stink of fear exuding from his prey.

Once he'd managed to isolate a frail stag from the rear of the herd, he dashed in front of it to keep it from rejoining the others, dropping low to the ground and raising his hackles as he snarled at the dumb creature.

Its eyes snapped to and fro, looking for a way to escape, but it never saw the female from the side. She plowed the beast down, sinking her jaws into its neck to kill it. Its legs flailed madly while it died, but the male descended onto it to stop the death throes in their tracks.

They ate their fill on flesh and organs. The sweet tang of adrenaline filled the meat and blood, and they greedily licked their chops when they had finished. Then, the female jerked her head toward a place deeper into the trees.

The male's heart thudded, and weakness replaced the strength that he'd felt surging through his veins just moment ago. The thrill of the hunt turned into desperation to find shelter, and he raced through the pine trees to find a hiding place. Just a little further....

By the time the wolf had released me from its grip, I had run nearly half a mile. I dropped to my bare knees and heaved until the bloodied contents of my stomach rushed back out of me. The meat from the elk had turned to acid, and my whole body shook with the chill of the night. Sweat and blood mixed together, the wounds across my torso, arms, and face stinging. My head spun, my ribs ached, and I shivered as the cool air dried the fluids coating my naked body.

"Can you walk?" asked Aela behind me. She, too, had turned back into her human form, naked as the day she was born.

But modesty had no place among the Circle. I had seen each member in a similar state countless times by now, so her nudity bothered me about as much as my own would.

Carefully, I nodded, taking inventory of my wounds before shakily rising to my feet. Deep cuts marred my chest, though I couldn't see bone through them. My arms burned from the claw marks stretching from the inner elbow to the wrists, and when I grimaced, the cuts on my face blazed bright with agony.

"It'll be slow," I said at last, turning to face her, "but I can make it."

It took a couple of hours for us to return to Jorrvaskr through the Underforge, and by the time we entered the mead hall, the fires had died down and everyone had gone to bed. Aela led me down the stairs and through the living quarters until we reached my room. She pushed me inside, then disappeared, probably to get dressed.

I should probably do the same, but with the blood still pouring freely from my wounds, I dared not ruin one of my few good sets of clothing. Instead, I found an old blanket at the bottom of my dresser, and I wrapped it loosely around my body.

It seemed to take forever for her to come back. In the time that she was gone, I overhead Skjor and Farkas talking as they moved down the halls and into Farkas's room across from mine.

"The old man will want to talk to both of you in the morning about this," said Skjor as the door shut behind them. "You stay in here until then. Don't even think about starting another fight with him. That as a gross misuse of your blessing, and you both know it. We've been willing to overlook your petty little spats up until now, but do it again, and there will be consequences."

When Aela did finally return, wearing a simple tunic and trousers, she handed me a large healing potion. "Drink this, now."

I didn't dare question her. She had a fire burning in her gaze, and beneath the surface, I could smell her barely-concealed rage.

After I had finished the potion, and my wounds began to heal, Aela shoved me into a chair.

"What in all the Divines' and Daedras' names were you thinking, Vilkas?" Her tone ws quiet, but her words came out in a sharp hiss. "You almost killed your only remaining family, and for what? A whore that neither of you will likely ever see again? Get a grip on yourself, Vilkas, before you do something that you wish could be undone." Stepping closer, she slapped me across the back of the head before she held something out to me in her other hand. She opened her fingers to reveal the Mark of Dibella, which I must have dropped when I transformed on the plains.

"You should've left that out there," I murmured without meeting her gaze.

"I want you to be the one to get rid of it. It's become an idol to you, a trophy you hold over Farkas's head for no good reason." She grabbed my wrist, forced my hand open, and dropped the gemstone into my palm. Before, the silly little trinket felt like it weighed nothing, but now, it seemed to carry the weight of the world within its faceted surface.

"Do whatever you want with it," she said. "Throw it down the well in town, crush it to dust. I don't care. But have it gone. And I never want to hear another word about this again."

A spark of defiance flared in my chest. "You're not my mother, Aela."

"Then stop acting like a child. You are a grown man, for Hircine's sake. A member of the Circle. The next Master at Arms, though after that disgusting display out there, I doubt the old man will grant you that title until you can prove you're mature enough to accept it."

That stung.

"Jergen believed in both of you."

I shot to my feet, the blanket falling into a pile around my ankles. "Don't you dare speak his name! You have no right to use him against me!"

She slapped me across the face, and I fell back into my seat. "I will speak of whoever I damn well please, boy! Jergan raised both of you better than this. You and your brother have been brought up to follow in our footsteps, so there is no excuse for the way you two fight. We are Companions, and as such, we tend to break out in brawls against one another. But you could have killed him, Vilkas. You would have killed him had we not intervened. Is that how you want this to go? Do you want to lose Farkas over that piece of garbage?"

I looked at the Mark in my hand, then closed my fingers around it once more. Slowly, I shook my head. "No, I don't."

She nodded. "All right. Now, get dressed, get rid of that damned thing, and sleep. Kodlak has asked that you both go to him in the morning. If I were you, I'd start thinking about what I'd say to the old man to explain myself." With that, she left my room.

In the silence that followed her departure, I sat in the chair, too stunned to move. Across the hall, quiet sobs filtered under Farkas's door.

Damn it all. How could I have let my foolish pride do this to me? Aela was right; I had every intention of fighting Farkas to the death if that was what it took to prove my point. I could have destroyed what little family I have left, all for something as stupid as a cheap gemstone that only proved I had bedded a woman who had probably done the same thing to any traveler who came through her inn. More than likely, there were dozens of men across the province that carried the useless stone with them, thinking it to be some great treasure or important gift.

Scowling, I shot up from my chair and threw on the nearest set of clothes I could find. I didn't even bother to put on my boots as I stalked out of my room and down the hall toward the door. I climbed the steps from the living quarters and into the main hall before turning to the right and going out the doors to the porch.

On I marched, taking a sharp left to the stairs leading to the Skyforge. Eorlund had long since gone home, but the fires within the great forge still burned bright. The heat was so intense, I nearly scorched my bare soles trying to get close to it.

With a grunt, I chucked the Mark of Dibella into the forge, watching as the flames lapped at its edges and consumed the gemstone in a blaze of smoke.

It is done.

After making sure that the fires had destroyed the Mark, I turned my face to the skies. I tried to count the stars overhead, watched as waves of green light oscillated back and forth below Masser and Secunda. My throat burned, and tears sprang into my eyes, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't stop them from falling.

The loss of Jergan still felt so fresh. He'd been gone for years, but the grief never seemed to go away. Not completely. Some days, I could almost forget about him, but others, like right now....

But the grief that ached in my chest for Jergen paled in comparison to the anguish I would've felt if I had come out of my beast form to find that I'd slain my twin brother, the only family that, as far as I knew, I had left in this world.

Being a lycanthrope put up a barrier between me and the gods, but even still, I offered up a weak, silent thanksgiving that the worst hadn't happened, that my brother still lived, and we had a chance to put all of this behind us.

I'll try to be different from this day forward. I swear it.

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I know it's been a long time since I've been able to publish,  and I don't know if anyone is still reading this, but if I still have faithful readers out there in the world, thank you for sticking around this long. If you like this story with the Moonborn brothers, please check out my ongoing novella, The Brothers Moonborn, where I am taking a different approach to showing Vilkas and Farkas's brotherly bond.

Again, thank you for your continued audience. As long as there are still people out there who want to see these stories, I'll keep writing.

~Wolfie