Silver and blood

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Shadrach murmured, looking over the Imperial, taking in his new sight and look. Of course, he had known Iven. He had been under the impression that Iven was killed in a  raid gone wrong.

“Aye, looks like we did,” he said, and offered the man a small smirk. “Good to see y’again, Iven.”

Niel watched the two men, happy that neither of them seemed displeased with the situation, and had no intentions of interrupting them.

“Aye, good to see you again, too, Shad, though I wish it was under different circumstances,” he chuckled and glanced over at Niel before he nodded in her direction. “I trust she has told you why we’re here?” the woman in question replied with a quiet nod before Iven turned back to Shadrach again.

His brows - and slight confusion - only seemed to deepen at her words. Who was she talking about? Turned? She had a friend that was a werebeast, that she seemed to work with still - and yet she had almost denied him his request?

Now wasn’t the time to worry about such things. Instead, he kept his expression curious and looked around as if expecting the man to materialize out of thin air.

At Shadrach’s question, Niel turned to look at him before she let out a short sigh. “Rumors say it’s a wolf, and it’s a big one,” she replied, frowning deeply, “The sooner we kill it, the better.”

-

As they got closer to their destination, Niel was beginning to get slightly anxious. The night before, she had purposefully left out a vital part in her plan to take down this beast, and now that they were almost there she was beginning to worry about how Shad would handle the news.

—

As he had said, the Nord was waiting for the two women just outside their camp. He hadn’t slept well - not that he usually did these days - and his dreams had been full of his Bear restlessly hunting a Wolf. Still, the dreams served to give a sort of hunger to his beast, and Shadrach was dying to start the hunt already.

As they approached Shadrach, Niel offered him a smile in greeting, and so did Yera albeit a little weaker. Niel had filled her in on what had happened with Shadrach, and their new arrangement and their plans for the following days, and the younger sister merely eyed him over for a moment. “How are you doing?” she asked carefully, a look of concern covering her face. 

No.

But he didn’t want anyone else to suffer at the hands of a werebeast, so he nodded in response.

“How many farms have been hit?” he asked, clutching the tankard tightly in his hands to keep himself calm. “Any pattern’a travel? If y’got an idea’a what might be targeted next, take m’there. I can smell if a werebeast’s been there. I can follow it, lead y’to it. I can take it down m’self if I have to. That ain’t the work’a no feral werebeast an’ that’s why we gotta move fast. Ain’t no tellin’ how many are doin’ it until we track ‘em down.”

The Nord sat forward, releasing his hold on the tankard and staring intently at the Silver Hand in front of him.

At the suggestion of bringing him there, her expression changed slightly and she looked at him from the corner of her eyes. “You’re right, I don’t like what you’ve become, and I really don’t like -” she cut herself off abruptly, sighing heavily and shook her head. Barking at him would do her no good, but the thought of working with him now that he was a werebeast himself really didn’t sit too well with her. 

“’Course,” he replied, nodding along with her condition. “I’ve been keepin’ m’ears open. So far, no one’s had need to come out this way, but if they do, I plan on takin’ the job before anyone else gets it.”

His brows furrowed for a moment, and he seemed hesitant to tell her the names of those he cared for. After a moment, he cleared his throat.

“Arlow is the werebear. He’s a Nord like me. Black and silver hair, blue eyes. Tindra, Fenris, and Indes are the others. All werewolves. Tindra and Fenris are twin Nords - red hair and blue eyes. Indes is a Bosmer. Dark skin, brown hair, gold eyes.”

That out of the way, he cleared his throat and leaned forward, his brows furrowed and his eyes dark with concern.

When he continued talking, Niel merely looked at him for a moment before her gaze fell to the floor and she crossed her arms. “There’s trouble in Falkreath, big trouble, and it’s spreading towards Riften,” she began, her voice flat and dry. 

“Someone is attacking homesteads, small farms, mills,” she shifted slightly and looked him dead in the eye, “They’re turning people, whole families, into werebeasts. Keeps them locked inside until their transformations are done, then they let them out on their first hunt.” 

Then again, he had come all this way. He couldn’t just give up now.

“Not all the werewolves we caught deserved… what they got,” he started, looking away from her so she wouldn’t catch the shame in his eyes. “The Companions, least the ones I been ‘round - they’re real good ‘bout who they choose ‘n they keep an eye on ‘em ‘n everythin’. I mean, they’ve kept their secret for a long fuckin’ time, y’know? Y’don’t do that by killin’ ‘n turnin’ everyone y’come across. Plus, they’re doin’ some good for Whiterun…”

The Nord forced himself to pause, rambling on and on about a group of werewolves Niel didn’t know or care about probably wasn’t going to help him.

“M’just… askin’ that… if y’come across a werewolf that don’t seem feral, that ain’t eatin’ someone, that can turn back to a person… ask their name. Ask ‘em if they’re in the Companions, ‘n if they are - send for m’so I can come get ‘em,” he said, and finally managed to meet her eyes again. 

“I’d like to ask y’to see where y’gettin’ y’weres, though - I mean, how they came to be, all of ‘em - to see if y’could find a pattern, maybe some feral or fuckin’ crazy bastard’s turnin’ people left ‘n right just cause they can. But I ain’t gonna do that. Hard to get straight answers from anyone when they’re fightin’ for their lives let alone a pissed off werebeast that just wants to leave.”

He finally took a drink of the spiced mead she had given him, having almost forgotten it completely as he searched for the words to say and now seemingly needing it as his throat seemed to close.

At the mention of a possible pattern, Niel swallowed almost audibly and the deep furrow on her brows said more than her mute tongue. She found it almost amusing that he would mention a pattern, now of all days.

She let him finish talking before she cleared her throat and shifted her weight, but kept her arms crossed. “Because it’s you asking, and since you came to me now rather than later,” she began, drawing out her sentence with a slow sigh, “I’ll do what I can - on one condition.” The chief held up her index finger for emphasis and gave Shad a stern look as if to say her terms weren’t negotiable. “I don’t want the Companions sniffing around my fort,” she told him. “I know it’s not your call, but if you can I want you to go with them as a medium. It might save a lot of lives, on both sides.”

If this had been any other sort of visit, he wouldn’t have hesitated. But Shadrach knew from experience what happened to werebeasts that entered that fort.

They didn’t leave with their limbs attached.

But he was trusting Niel, as he had done so many times before, and so he nodded and followed her inside.

"Ain’t no reason for y’to be sorry, Niel," he said once they had walked inside and made it to her quarters. "Y’ain’t the one that did this to m’n I prolly had it comin’ for a lon’ while now. Ain’t like I made the best choices in m’life. Only right Nirn tried to balance out all the shit I did, aye?"

He cleared his throat, shaking his head and staring at the ground.

"…got turned," he said flatly. Looking away from Niel. He was prepared for a fight, even if he didn’t want one. At the very least, he was certain he could flee without having to kill any of the camp members.

"Feral werebear attacked m’sister ‘n I," he continued, swallowing thickly. "Took m’n held m’in a cage. It… fed m’it’s blood til I turned." He clenched his jaw, brows furrowed in anger at the memory.

Shad let out a slow sigh, studying the tops of his boots before finally he took a deep breath. No time like the present. Either she understood and trusted he was the same person she had known before - or she didn’t.

"Been workin’ with… the Companions,” he said, finally, his voice hushed. He looked up to meet her eyes, to gauge her reaction, to decide on whether or not he might have to fight his way out of here.

Had he really said the Companions? Her eyebrows shot up in surprise and she blinked at him once their eyes met. “The Companions?” she echoed in disbelief and furrowed her brows again. “They let you join, even after everythin’ y’done?” she asked with quirked eyebrows, but she didn’t get to ask him any more questions before he continued talking again.

"Things’ve been… different," he admitted with a weak smile and a shake of his head. "Got a sister ‘n a son now. Ain’t stayin’ with the camp. Darrow ‘n I… had a… fight."

It wasn’t a lie, the last time the men had seen one another, past saying a few words here and there, Shad had beaten Darrow black and blue. They hadn’t spoken much since, despite accepting apologies from one another.

It had been a long time since Shadrach had last seen Niel. If he was honest with himself, he didn’t want to cross paths with her again. It was too late to turn back now, and he offered the woman a smile as he approached her.

Being in the middle of her camp made his skin crawl and his Bear growl and roar with anger. How many times had he willingly helped her and her camp haul in a werewolf? How many of those times had that werewolf been a Companion?

The thought made a nasty ball of guilt coil in his stomach, and he had to swallow thickly to keep himself under control. Once he was within speaking distance, he cleared his throat.