Wyldfyre

[shadowkitty]

CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN: Back to Ivarstead


Wyldfyre was dressed and fully packed when she opened the door to Marcurios room.

“Wake up sleepyhead!” she sang “Today’s the day.” Marcurio rolled over, rubbing his eyes.

“What?” he looked around sleepily.

“We are leaving. Get ready, I’ll wait for you down stairs” and with that, she left his room. Wyldfyre was eating breakfast when Marcurio trudged down the stairs. He sat down at the table and waved the bar maid over and ordered breakfast for himself. He looked at Wyldfyre, who was humming to herself.

“Why are you so happy this morning?” he asked her. Wyldfyre poured him a tankard of mead from the bottle she had purchased.

“Because we are leaving Riften. Don’t you feel excited about our new adventure?” she asked. Marcurio sat there in his new armour, looking slightly uncomfortable. She cocked her head to the side and then stood up.

“Stand” she ordered him. Marcurio stood, grumbling.

“Brace yourself” she warned him.

“What?...OW!” Wyldfyre had banged down hard on his shoulders. She sat back down and continued eating.

“What was that for?” Marcurio spluttered.

“You were lopsided” Wyldfyre answered him. “Doesn’t your armour feel better now? Sit better?”. He tested it out and reluctantly agreed.

“Yes it does feel better. Thank you” he said a little huffily. Half an hour later they were walking through the gate and took the north-east road leading back to Ivarstead. The day had dawned overcast and Wyldfyre and Marcurio were both glad that they would not have to make the journey in the hot blazing sun. Wyldfyre was equally relieved and disappointed that they had not seen Brynjolf on their way out of the city. He would be down in the training room, pacing the floor, wondering where she was. If he had of known they were leaving he would have had strong words to say about it. He had been particularly protective since Wyldfyre had been taken.

Wyldfyre wondered why Marcurio didn’t seem as concerned about the master Vampire still being out there as what Brynjolf had been. She wondered if Marcurio had ever faced a Vampire as powerful as Lord Manval. It could also have just been his arrogance that afforded him complacency.

They walked the road that ran alongside the lake and for the most part remained silent. Wyldfyre could sense a tension in Marcurio and was not sure if he was just being alert or if something else was on his mind. She decided she didn’t want to discuss it and so continued on in silence. Her peace was broken by Marcurio finally.

“What happened between you and Brynjolf?” he surprised her by asking. Wyldfyre looked at Marcurio, his face stony as he walked beside her.

“Why is it your business?” she asked him. Marcurio glanced over to her.

“I thought we were…”

“What?”

“Never mind” he said sullenly. Wyldfyre was wondering if she should take the opportunity to end their intimate relationship. She was never one to lie outright, but if it prevented more hurt later then what was wrong with a little?

“If you must know” she began “Nothing happened between Brynjolf and I”. He looked at her, eyebrows raised.

“Really?”

“Yes really” she glared at him “I love another and my heart is bound to him” then she added under her breath “Even if he thinks I no longer love him.” Marcurio stopped on the road and Wyldfyre had to stop as well. He looked at her, hurt in his eyes.

“But that day at the cove, we made love. I thought you felt the same way as I did?”. Wyldfyre started off again.

“That day was a mistake. A weakness. One that shall never be made again.” Wyldfyre was not sure if Marcurio was going to follow her and she felt a moment of remorse for her cruel words. A moment later he was beside her again, keeping up with her hurried pace.

“Understood” he said simply. Wyldfyre wondered if he was now lying to her. She decided not to ask, glad that he had at least given her the answer she had desired. They continued on in silence again. Half way through their journey they came to a part of the road that passed through a ravine. They could see smoke rising over a small crest. Wyldfyre and Marcurio looked at one another.

“Shall we go around or check it out?” Marcurio asked her. Wyldfyre remembered the ravine from her journey to Riften and knew there was no way around the cliff faces on either side. She was also concerned that there may be innocent citizens in trouble.

“No” she shook her head “there is no way around and there might be people who need our help.” She drew her sword and flexed her other hand, ready to use a spell if she needed. “Weapons out, be ready for anything” They made their way up the slope and as they crested the top they could see down to the terrible scene below. A cart was overturned in the middle of the road, its contents spilled out everywhere, half of it still on fire. A horse lay dead with half of its stomach ripped out. The cart was also on fire and as they approached they saw a charred corpse, burnt beyond recognition. Wyldfyre’s heart dropped. She knew of only one thing that could burn a person like that. She sheathed her sword and drew her bow out, notching it and pointing it to the sky.

“What? What did this Wyldfyre?” Marcurio looked at her alarmed just as an almighty roar echoed off the cliff faces. Wyldfyre stole a quick glance at Marcurio whose face had gone pale.

“Dragon!” she cried. Marcurio stood there stunned for a few moments before pulling back his sleeves and readying his lightening spells. Wyldfyre urged Marcurio to take cover under the cliff, as she ran to the opposite side. She hugged the wall of rock as she scanned the sky for the winged beast. She heard a loud beating of wings and then an intense jet of flame shot down from above her. She was protected by the cliff and stood there as the heat of the fire almost singed her skin. It was almost unbearable. Wyldfyre turned her face towards the cool rock. She heard Marcurio shouting and blasting at the dragon with his shock spells. Small rocks and debris rained down on her as the dragon took off into the sky again and she got a glimpse of red scales.

“Well” shouted Marcurio from the other side “Now I have seen everything!” Wyldfyre nodded, still scanning the sky with her bow. She was concerned that there was only the two of them to fight this dragon. Both other times she had had Soldiers to help bring the beast down. A shadow passed over her and she spun around in time to see the dragon landing a few yards in front of her. It crawled along the ground, using its front wings like great spiny legs. Marcurio dashed out and blasted it with a shock spell and it shook its head in pain for a brief moment. The dragon snarled, and gathered itself for another fire blast directed at Marcurio. Wyldfyre dropped her bow and flung out her hands, blasting at the spot right in front of Marcurio with her frost spell. It protected Marcurio enough for him to be able to run out of the path of the dragon’s fire. He looked over to Wyldfyre, surprised.

“You and I are going to have a talk about that when we are done here!” he shouted. Wyldfyre remembered she had never even told him about her magical skills. She gathered up her bow and fired a volley of shots at the dragon while it was still on the ground. It was beginning to tire.

“Try to keep it grounded!” she yelled over the noise of its growling. Wyldfyre was starting to feel a familiar exhilaration swelling in her belly. The dragon souls inside her were urging her on and a new savagery erupted inside her. The dragon was weakening with her arrows and Marcurio’s powerful shock spells and Wyldfyre recklessly cast aside her bow and drew her sword. She uttered a guttural growl herself and charged in to engage the dragon with her sword, slashing away at it as it tried to snap her in half with its enormous teeth. Wyldfyre’s vision was tinged red and all else was forgotten while she duelled with the dragon.

“You mortals have grown arrogant while I slept” the dragon said to her. Wyldfyre slashed at the dragon’s eyes and it flinched slightly.

“You are right to fear me, for I am Dovahkiin!” she snarled at it. The dragon snapped at her again, its eyes burning with hate.

“I do not fear you, Dovahkiin!”

“Then fight!” Wyldfyre shouted. The dragon crawled forward, causing Wyldfyre to back up. As she slashed she could see its body light up as Marcurio’s shock spells hit it again and again. Suddenly Wyldfyre saw an opportunity to pounce and she leapt up onto its head. She held on to one of its long spikes while trying to keep her footing as the dragon thrashed around. She slashed at its neck and opened a gashing wound that sent its boiling red blood pouring down onto the road. Wyldfyre let go of its spike and took her sword in both hands and plunged it down into the dragon’s skull with all of her strength. The dragon bucked wildly and Wyldfyre was thrown from it, landing heavily on the ground, she rolled to a standing position and watched as the dragon finished its death throes, collapsing to the ground in a twisted pile of leathery wings and spikes.

Wyldfyre stood there in the seconds after the dragon’s death, revelling in the thrill of the kill. Her hand was covered in its blood and Wyldfyre took a finger and drew two bloody lines down her face. As before, the dragon then started to disintegrate before her and she felt the new soul enter her body. She swayed as it filled her and let its presence known to her. Her vision went completely red before fading away and she was able to see clearly again. In fact she was able to see more clearly than before. She stood there breathing heavily from her exertions and the excitement of the dragon fight.

“I don’t know what to say”. Marcurio said, astonished. She blinked out of her revere and turned her head towards him. He looked into her eyes and backed up a little, slightly frightened by what he saw. The slashes of blood dripped down her face.

“Don’t speak” she said to him. In her heightened state she didn’t know what she was capable of at that moment. She needed time to adjust to the new dragon soul and to come down from the euphoric high she was in. She bent down and recovered her sword from the dragon bones and sheathed it. She found her bow and satchel whose contents had spilled out. Marcurio helped pick up her things.

“Who is Farkas?” he asked. Wyldfyre turned to see him holding her letter. She snatched it out of his hands and shoved it back into her satchel. Without a word, she started off back down the road in the direction they were travelling. Marcurio ran up beside her.

“Wyldfyre. Wyldfyre!” He grabbed her hand and immediately let it go, crying out in pain. Wyldfyre stopped and studied Marcurios hand. It had been burned where he had touched the dragon’s blood.

“Why is the blood not affecting you the same way?” he asked as he rubbed his hand. Wyldfyre peered at her own hand. It was stained red, but otherwise felt completely normal to her.

“I don’t know” she answered honestly “I guess it’s another perk from being Dragonborn”. Marcurio frowned.

“You really do need to see the Greybeards” he said. Wyldfyre agreed and they continued along the road, passing under the flaming orange trees. Occasionally they would see a deer bounding through the trees and Wyldfyre desperately wanted to hunt them. Her instincts were still heightened and she found walking along the road to be tedious. She quickened her pace when she saw smoke rising from several thatched roofs in the distance.

They arrived in Ivarstead in the late afternoon and Wyldfyre went immediately into the Inn to seek out Wilhelm. His smile when he saw her was so infectious that Wyldfyre could not help but smile as well. They hugged warmly and Wilhelm nodded politely when Wyldfyre introduced Marcurio to him. Wilhelm directed them down the stairs to his quarters and he set about his small kitchen, preparing a meal for them all. Wyldfyre peeled off her armour, leaving the undershirt on, and asked Wilhelm if she could use his bath. As Wilhelm filled it he asked her about the blood slashed across her face. Wyldfyre could not even remember doing it. Wilhelm let it go and soon she was alone, soaking in a steaming tub of rose scented water.

When Wyldfyre emerged from the bath, smelling sweet again and not covered in Dragon’s blood, she sat at the table and told Wilhelm of her journey to Riften. She left out her meeting with Brynjolf and the Thieves Guild, instead telling him of her capture and torture by the Vampires, and the dragon attack on their way back. Wilhelm was shocked when she had finally finished and shook his head.


“It’s a wonder you are still alive my girl” he said to her, placing a fatherly hand on her shoulder “And now I suspect you are wanting a room for the night so you can rest up for your journey to the Throat of the World?”. Wyldfyre nodded and smiled. This time she was determined to start the journey and finish it the way she had planned. Just before she retired for the night she handed over her letter to Wilhelm and told him whom to have it delivered to.

 

[shadowkitty]

CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT: The Throat of the World


Early the next morning they crossed the bridge that forded the rapidly flowing river that spilled down to the valley below, and paused briefly at the base of the Seven Thousand Steps. You can do this, Wyldfyre tried to encourage herself. She placed her foot on the first step and her ascent began.

At the top of the first set of steps was a small shrine, marking the beginning of their journey. Wyldfyre didn’t stop to read the inscription, wanting to keep moving as quick as possible. Marcurio mumbled something about wanting to study the writing but Wyldfyre was in a hurry. The steps themselves were treacherous and completely worn away in some places. The path was thankfully marked with guide stones, so as an unwary pilgrim would not lose their way. After an hour of walking, they saw another shrine on the side of the path. They continued on, stopping once to peer over the edge of the mountain into the valley. Wyldfyre could see Ivarstead and the river that raged beside it. She could not make out any people though.

Goats were abundant on the Throat of the World. They scampered over the rocks with an agility that Wyldfyre admired. At any other time she would have hunted them, her fingers itching to take out her bow. After the third shrine the snow began to appear. It covered the steps in an icy slick that was slippery to walk on. Wyldfyre and Marcurio tried to avoid using the steps as much as they could, going around them instead. A couple of hours walking through the snow and they were beginning to feel weary. They stopped at another shrine and had a quick meal of cheese and apples. The air was so chilled she could see her breath.

“No trouble so far” Marcurio remarked. They continued along the steps for another hour, passing two more shrines when they came to another where a woman was sitting. Wyldfyre approached warily but the woman merely looked up and smiled at the pair.

“Good day” she greeted her.

“Good day fellow pilgrim” the woman answered her. She was dressed in studded hide armour and had a simple hunting bow slung across her back. “What brings you here?”She asked Wyldfyre.

“We are making our way up to High Hrothgar” she answered the woman who raised her eyebrows, impressed. Wyldfyre looked up at the mountain. The peak was obscured by clouds.

“You are journeying all the way” the pilgrim said. “A hard journey indeed”. Wyldfyre nodded in agreement.

“What brings you here, may I ask?” She asked the woman.

“I try to make this journey every year to honour my brother. He perished on this mountain, at this very shrine”

“Oh, I’m sorry” Marcurio said to her. She waved her hand.

“It is of no matter my friend. It was a long time ago. Still, I like to come here and honour his memory”. They bid farewell to her and continued up the mountain. A short distance from the next shrine they encountered a snow bear. It growled and sniffed the wind as it carried their scent to it.

“How do you want to handle this?” Marcurio questioned her. Wyldfyre was torn, she did not want to kill the bear, but it was blocking their way and there was no way around it now that it had them in its sights. Wyldfyre sighed.
“There is no other way” she said reluctantly “We have to get past it”. Marcurio nodded, understanding her reluctance to kill the animal. He pulled back his sleeves and approached the bear cautiously.

“WAIT!” Wyldfyre shouted, almost frightening Marcurio enough to accidently send out a shock blast. He turned his head slowly back to her.

“What?” he said through gritted teeth.

“I think I have another idea” she said to him.

“Well please be my guest, I am wound up tight here and ready to explode”. Wyldfyre rolled her eyes and walked past him calmly. She sought out the word she had learnt in the depths of Shroud Hearth Barrow, the word she understood to calm wild beasts. She walked up to the bear who stood up on its hind legs, towering over her.

“KAAN!” she shouted at the bear. It stopped growling and went back down onto all four paws. Then it simply turned and lumbered away, down the side of the mountain.

“That worked better than I expected” Wyldfyre said to Marcurio. He raised his eyebrows, impressed as he watched the retreating bear.

“Indeed” he agreed then started forward “But let’s leave this area all the same”. Wyldfyre agreed and they climbed up the ancient stairs that led to the next shrine. They passed two more, taking another two hours before they decided to take another break. As they sat there, eating some fruit they suddenly heard a noise like ice cracking in the sun. Marcurio dropped his apple and stood, looking quickly from side to side.

“What is it?” Wyldfyre asked, unsheathing her sword.

“Ice wraith” Marcurio pointed. Wyldfyre saw an almost translucent, glowing apparition darting towards them. It hovered at head height and made a hissing sound that was piercing to Wyldfyres sensitive ears. Icicles protruded from its small elongated body that tapered down to a whip-like tail. It almost looked like it swam through the air as it swished from side to side. Wyldfyre dropped her sword and held out her hands, ready to blast the Wraith with fire. Suddenly it darted forward and bit Wyldfyre on the arm with dozens of tiny sharp teeth. The pain was intense and little droplets of blood formed around frozen tooth holes.

“OW!” Wyldfyre yelled. “My arms frozen!” she dropped her numb arm and blasted the wraith with fire one-handed. It screeched at her and darted away. Marcurio drew his sword and slashed at the Wraith as it darted to and fro. Wyldfyre shot flames at it again and with a final swipe with his sword, the icy spirit exploded, sending shards of ice everywhere. Marcurio sheathed his sword and rushed over to Wyldfyre who was peering at her frozen arm. The blood that had seeped out of the wounds was now frozen on her skin.

“This is serious. We need to treat this or it will spread. Don’t move it at all.” he said, worried. Wyldfyre sat down on a rock holding her arm steady. She directed him to her satchel behind her, where she had a health vial and a healing salve. He unstopped the vial for her and she drank it down, feeling its effects almost immediately. She sat there while Marcurio rummaged around her satchel for the slave. His hand came upon something metal and he drew it out, his eyes growing wider as he recognized the Amulet of Mara. Marcurio checked to see if Wyldfyre was looking before stowing the amulet away inside his armour.

“Here” he said to her as he took her arm gently in his hand and rubbed the healing salve over the icy wounds. He wrapped a linen cloth around it and secured it with a knot. Wyldfyre flexed her arm. It was feeling much better already.

“We will have to keep an eye on it” Marcurio told her “Sometimes they take a bit to heal”. They gathered up their things and passed the fifth shrine. Up ahead was a large rocky outcrop that the path up the mountain passed through. Wyldfyre was hesitant to go through it. Just as she was about to suggest to Marcurio they go find a way around it, a white troll appeared on top of the outcrop. It had already seen the pair and was snarling down at them, waving its great hairy arms in the air.

“Well” said Wyldfyre “This mountain certainly keeps you on your toes”

“Can you fight?” Marcurio asked her. Wyldfyre nodded and drew out her bow, notching it. She winced a little at the pain in her arm but loosed an arrow at the frost troll all the same, hitting it in the leg. This only served to enrage the creature even more and it pummelled its fists on the rocks before lumbering down the cliff face and heading straight for them.

“Is that shout going to work on a troll?” Marcurio asked.

“I don’t know” Wyldfyre answered “I’ll try”

“KAAN!” she shouted at the troll. It slowed its pace slightly but it still rushed towards them.

“I guess not! Look out!” Marcurio shouted as the troll reached them. It swung its enormous arms at them and they both plunged sideways to avoid the troll’s huge claws. Wyldfyre summoned her fire spell and used both hands to blast the troll. It howled as Wyldfyre smelt its fur burning. It swiped at her again and she tried to duck out of its way. It hit her and sent her flying sideways. She landed heavily, knocking the wind out of her for a second. The troll lumbered towards her and she scrambled backwards before it was hit from behind by a powerful blast of electricity. Marcurio was trying to distract the troll long enough for Wyldfyre to get back to her feet again. It turned towards Marcurio and Wyldfyre blasted it from behind with her fire, trying to intensify the flames.
The troll howled as it was assaulted from both sides by Wyldfyre and Marcurio. It stumbled forward, almost knocking Marcurio over in its attempt to escape. It was moving closer and closer to the edge of the sheer mountain face and Wyldfyre had an idea.

“Get it to the edge!” she yelled over the noise of flames, sparks and howling. The troll backed up towards the edge of the cliff, swiping at the pair and howling in agony. Wyldfyre waited until it was as close as it could get to the edge and shouted.

“FUS!” the troll was flung backwards and disappeared over the edge of the mountain. Wyldfyre lowered her hands and peered over the edge. The troll was still falling and burning, the flames harder and harder to see as it fell through the clouds to the earth below.

“That was way too easy” Wyldfyre remarked. Marcurio turned and went to pick up his sword.

“Yes, you almost don’t even need me at all” he mumbled. Wyldfyre chose not to acknowledge that she heard his remark. She touched her side where the troll had hit her. Luckily her armour had taken the brunt of the blow. The troll’s claws had torn a hole in the leather that was beyond repair. Wyldfyre’s heart dropped. She was going to need new armour.

They continued on up the mountain path until they came to a large shrine with a statue of a man in armour and winged helm, standing astride a dragon, about to deal a death blow. Marcurio read out the inscription on the monument.

“For years all silent, the Grey Beards spoke one name, Tiber Septim, Stripling then, was summoned to Hrothgar. They blessed him and named him Dovahkiin.”

“Dovahkiin?” Wyldfyre asked. “This Tiber Septim was of the dragon blood to?” Marcurio shook his head.

“I’m afraid my knowledge on the lore of Tamriel is not as extensive as I would like, but I can tell you that Tiber is now revered as one of the Nine Divines under the name of Talos.”

“I’ve heard someone use that name” Wyldfyre said. They lingered at the monument for a while before Wyldfyre urged them on. She could see a towering building up ahead and her excitement and trepidation grew as she knew her journey up the Throat of the World was over and she would finally get the answers to her burning questions.

 

[shadowkitty]

adult content

CHAPTER THIRTY NINE: The return


The inner sanctum of the Greybeards was cold and silent. Too silent. Wyldfyre and Marcurio had wandered down the entry hall into a large central area only to find no-one there.

“Shouldn't someone be waiting for you?” Marcurio whispered, afraid to intrude on the silence. Wyldfyre simply shrugged and continued up some stairs to the left and down another hall until they could see a figure kneeling on the floor in front of a statue. Wyldfyre approached the hooded man cautiously.

“Excuse me” she said in a hushed tone “I am seeking an audience with the Greybeards” The figure did not look at her, but merely stood and walked back down the hall. Wyldfyre sighed and followed after it. When they came to the stairs Wyldfyre was surprised to see three more robed men standing in a circle in the middle of the main room. Wyldfyre walked into the centre of the circle and addressed the men.

“I am Wyldfyre. I am the one you summoned” she turned, looking for any sort of acknowledgement from the group.

“We have been expecting you”. Wyldfyre turned to study the man who had finally addressed her. He was old and his beard was, indeed, grey. “Welcome to High Hrothgar. It has been a while since we called you Dovahkiin”. Wyldfyre looked the greybeard in the eye.

“I came as soon as I was able” she answered him. He nodded and smiled slightly.

“I am master Arngeir. Why are you here?” Wyldfyre blinked. She thought that it was quite obvious why she was before them.

“Because I am Dragonborn” she said. Master Arngeir shook his head, and she felt the others shift slightly.

“That is not a good enough reason. Try again. Why are you here?”. Wyldfyre thought for a while.

“I am here to learn the way of the voice, to have questions answered, to better understand what it means to be Dovahkiin”. This answer seemed to please the Greybeards and Arngeir smiled at her.

“Dovahkiin” all four Greybeards then greeted her. The word was so profound and powerful that Wyldfyre stumbled a little as it echoed around the halls. Marcurio covered his ears, wincing in pain.

“Let us begin” Arngeir said. In the following days Wyldfyre learnt the second word that followed after the Fus shout the Greybeards had called Unrelenting force and had tested Wyldfyre’s ability to use it extensively. After she had trained with her voice she was then allowed to pour over the many ancient texts they had in their small library. Wyldfyre would stay up to all hours of the night reading everything she could. She would finally fall into her bed in the early hours of the morning.

While she was learning the way of the voice, Marcurio kept to himself, wandering the courtyard and eating in the small dining hall off to the right of the main hall where Wyldfyre practised. Wyldfyre did not really notice his presence, so caught up in her training. She bumped into him one afternoon while returning another book to the library.

“How is it going?” Marcurio had asked her. Wyldfyre excitedly told him about what she had just learned about the different types of shouts that were out there.

“I’m determined to find all of these word walls” she had said to him. Marcurio nodded, wondering if she included him in her plans at all. He was still feeling guilty for taking her amulet of Mara. He took it out sometimes and studied it, wondering if she had noticed it missing. He was planning on putting it back into her satchel but so far had not had the opportunity to do so.

The last day of Wyldfyre’s training at High Hrothgar she was rewarded with a new shout. All three words were given to her by the Greybeard Borri, out in the courtyard. He then demonstrated its affects and Wyldfyre was astonished when Master Borri moved so quickly that he was just a blur. Wyldfyre then tried the shout and suddenly found herself yards away without any effort at all. She almost giggled when she did it again to appear right in front of Arngeir, who looked at her sternly.

“Your training is complete for now.” He had said to her “You are ready for the final trial. To retrieve the Horn of Jurgen Windcaller in the ruins of Ustengrav”. Wyldfyre left High Hrothgar in better spirits. She had finally got the answers she was looking for and she had learned more shouts.

She had felt a weight lifting from her when she had discussed with Arngeir, late one night, her behaviour after absorbing the dragons’ souls. It had been a difficult and embarrassing conversation for both but Wyldfyre had learned that it was the dragon souls inside her that stirred up what was already there. They just added fuel to the fire so to speak. Wyldfyre had to accept that she could not help the way she acted when her appetites grew insatiable, or when she felt that primal savagery swelling inside her. All she could do was to go through the meditation exercises that Arngeir had given her and hope that they were enough.

When they made it back down the mountain they once again sought out rooms at Wilhelm’s Inn. Over their evening meal Marcurio was silent, pushing his food around his plate. Wyldfyre asked him what was on his mind.

“This is it then.” He said. Wyldfyre blinked.

“I’m not sure what you mean”

“You made it to the Throat of the World and back down again. I..our contract is over” he said sullenly. Wyldfyre studied him for a while. She had not even thought about what Marcurio wanted to do, now that they were finished with the Greybeards.

“If you want to leave then I can’t make you stay, after all, I never paid you remember?”. Marcurio looked up from his plate, a fire in his eyes.

“Do you really want me to go?” he asked her. Wyldfyre shook her head, not understanding Marcurios question.

“I don’t understand? I thought you would be happy to leave, now that we are done. You can go back to Riften and get some paid work. You don’t need to tag along with me anymore”

“Tag along?” he bristled. “TAG along?” he shook his head and stood up “You just don’t get it, do you?” he pulled something out from his armour and threw it on to the table in front of her and strode off to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Wyldfyre peered down at the object he had flung at her. It was an Amulet of Mara. My amulet. Why did he have this? She wondered. She sat in her room thinking about the past few weeks she had been in Marcurio’s company. They had made love that one time in the cove and Wyldfyre had thought nothing more of it. Obviously it meant more to Marcurio and when he had been so understanding when she had told him to back off, he really had been lying to her. Now she discovered he had stolen the Amulet of Mara that she had intended for Farkas. The letter! Marcurio had seen her letter to Farkas as well. She sighed and shook her head. What could she do about it? Marcurio needed to get over the fact that her heart was bound to someone else.

She was going to ask him to come with her to Ustengrav but now she was not so sure. She really did not want to go there alone though, and finding someone she could trust again was going to be difficult. But, after what had just happened, could she really trust him? He had taken her amulet and kept it secret for all this time because he still had feelings for her. She could not have him with her if he still felt that way. It was cruel and wrong. Wyldfyre didn’t know what do to. She had a restless night as she tossed and turned, wishing that the problem would just go away.

She got her wish the next morning when she woke to find that Marcurio had left. She stood at the door, peering into his room, all his belongings gone. Wyldfyre sighed, sad to see Marcurio go, but also glad that she would not have to deal with him again. She was suddenly very home sick and decided that it was time from her to return to Whiterun. Besides needing to restock her supplies and buy some new armour, she needed to see Farkas. The ache in her heart was now almost unbearable and she needed to tell him face to face how she felt.

She packed up her things and bid farewell to Wilhelm and set off through the mountain pass that she had taken when she first made her way into the Rift. Her journey was quick, stopping only for a light snack and rest and then continued on. She made it to Riverwood mid afternoon but kept going straight through to Whiterun. She smiled as the city came into view between the trees and she quickened her pace, desperate to see the faces of the people she loved.

As she neared the gate she nodded to the guard who still recognised her.

“Greetings Thane, it’s been a long time” he greeted her politely.

“Yes, too long” she agreed and he let her into the city. Her stomach clenched into nervous knots as she walked past the smith and came to the door of Breezehome. Don’t be silly she scolded herself this is your town, your house. She pushed open the door. As she closed the door she felt immediately like she had stepped into a strangers house. Lydia had kept it clean and Wyldfyre could see little touches she had made to make the little house homely. A fire was crackling in the small fire pit and a pot of some sort of stew bubbled over the fire.

Wyldfyre put down her satchel and her bow and sword and wandered through the lower rooms of the house. The kitchen was stocked with food and two place settings were at the table. Wyldfyre knew one was for Lydia but wondered who the other was for. She peered into the room off to the left of the house and found it to be empty of anything except for a large wooden bathing tub. She eyed it longingly.

Wyldfyre heard footfalls above her and smiled to herself. She walked over to the cooking pot and drew out a portion of the food on the spoon, just as Lydia came down the stairs. The look of surprise on her face was priceless as Wyldfyre tasted the stew.

“Needs salt” she commented. That was a far as she got as she was engulfed in Lydia’s embrace. She hugged Lydia back, tears in her eyes, surprised at her friend’s enthusiastic welcome. It was hard to calm Lydia down as she peppered her with questions. Wyldfyre told her as much as she could before she grew too impatient.

“Have you, seen Farkas?” she asked her, afraid of her answer. Lydia smiled widely.

“Oh yes, I have seen plenty of him. And his brother”. Wyldfyre bristled a little.

“What do you mean?” she asked her sternly. Lydia looked horrified.

“I’m sorry! It’s not like that, oh dear, what I meant to say was, Yes I have seen Farkas, and his brother because I.. Vilkas and I are together” she finished, blushing. Wyldfyre raised her eyebrows.

“Really? You and Vilkas? That is wonderful news.” Wyldfyre smiled, relieved. She looked at Lydia who seemed to be glowing with happiness. Wyldfyre sighed.

“About Farkas?” she asked, her lip trembling. Lydia took her hands and squeezed them.

“Why don’t you go ask him yourself?” she said. She nodded at Wyldfyre who understood and smiled back. She got up and pawed at her armour desperately.

“Help me get this off?” she asked her friend. Lydia helped her strip out of her ruined armour and then fetched a pot to start heating water for the bath. Soon Wyldfyre was enjoying a soak in the tub when she heard the front door banging open. She sat up in the bath, trying to hear who had entered the house. Suddenly the door to the bath was flung open and Farkas stood there in the doorway. He stepped in and kicked the door closed. Wyldfyre stood, and stared into his eyes that were full of such love and fire and she knew that she had made the right decision. She stumbled towards him, tears brimming in her eyes and fell into his arms.

Farkas’s arms encircled her and he drew her to him so hard that she almost winced in pain, her naked body pressed up against the cold hard steel of his armour. Their lips met and they kissed with a passion so deep it left both of them breathless. Wyldfyre clawed at Farkas’s armour, desperate to get it off so she could feel his warm skin touching hers, she needed to be closer to him, to be consumed by him. Farkas peeled of his armour and undergarments and finally when he was free of them he grabbed Wyldfyre by the waist and lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around him and he backed her into a wall as he entered her and they moved together as one. Wyldfyre flung back her head and moaned with pleasure as she felt a release that she thought she would never feel again.

 

[Brewman]

Wow (Brewman blushes)

 

[shadowkitty]

CHAPTER FORTY: Confessions


Later, as they lay in bed together, Farkas stroked her back while she told him of her journey. He struggled to control his anger when she had confessed her unfaithfulness to him. She told him about the hunter, and Marcurio and her kiss with Brynjolf.

“You don’t need to tell me” he had said to her.

“But I need to” she pleaded “I can’t have any secrets from you”. Farkas felt a pang of guilt when he thought about his secret. The one he desperately wanted to tell her but was not allowed. He relaxed a little when she tried to explain why she had done it, not really understanding, just glad that she was in his arms once again. Farkas listened, horrified, and tightened his arms around her when she told him about her capture and torture by the vampires.

“They fed off you?” he asked, his hands stilling. “They bit you?”

“No” she answered him, sitting up and showing him the scar on her breast that had been left behind by the female vampire’s sharp nails, and the scar on her neck left by the Master Vampire. He studied the scars and grew angry that they dared harm his mate, also a little fearful that the Master Vampire was still out there. She showed him other scars that she had acquired while she was away. The slit around her throat from the crazed elf in Shroud Hearth Barrow. The thin line on her forehead from the Deathlord in Bleak Falls Sanctum, and the tiny pin sized bite marks from the Ice Wraith. Farkas kissed every scar as she pointed them out, causing Wyldfyre to giggle, which set him over the edge, delighted to hear her laugh again. He moved her on top of him and as she straddled his body she enveloped him and they made love again.

****​

​

Farkas studied Wyldfyres armour. They had decided it was time for them to leave the bedroom and for Wyldfyre to face the rest of the Companions. She sat on the edge of the bed in just her white linen shift. The thin gauzy material didn’t leave much to the imagination and Farkas felt a stirring in his stomach again. He turned his attention back to Wyldfyre’s ruined armour. He fingered the huge tears the trolls claws had made.

“You are lucky you were wearing this” he said, turning it over and examining the inside “You’re right. It’s in pretty bad shape. I don’t know if even Eorlund can repair it.” Wyldfyre sighed. That armour had seen her through some pretty rough times. She was sad that she would have to throw it away. She nodded and took off her slip. Farkas sat and watched as she moved around the bedroom, naked. He was so glad that she was back he was content to just sit and watch as she brushed her hair and rummaged through her drawers for clothing. She pulled on a pair of tight, brown leather pants and a white tunic top, and her boots. Farkas eyed the boots, they was also falling apart.

“You might want to get them replaced as well” he nodded to them. Wyldfyre peered down at the boots, surprised at not having noticed how shabby they had become. She sighed and then moved over to Farkas, circling her arms around his shoulders. They stood there for a while, smelling each other’s scent.

“Ready?” Farkas asked her. He kissed her deeply as she sighed against him.

“Ready” she said.

They left Breezehome, Lydia coming with them, and made their way to Jorrvaskr. Wyldfyre looked around at the people and market stalls. Nothing had changed while she was away, and yet everything felt different. She felt different. The sun shone brighter and colours seemed more vivid. Wyldfyre’s hearing was keener than ever. It was like her body had taken one enormous dose of health potion and she felt alive and vibrant. She was buoyed by Farkas and Lydia’s excitement and they ascended the steps of the mead hall in good spirits.

The hall was relatively quiet. Most of the Companions were out on jobs and the few remaining were either out in the practice yard, or down in the dorms. They met Athis, the dunmer who had trained Wyldfyre in one handed combat and he politely welcomed her back. Lydia went off to find Vilkas and Farkas and Wyldfyre made their way down into the dorms in search of Kodlak. They knocked on his door before he called to them to enter. He smiled widely when he saw Wyldfyre and stood to embrace her. He smelt like old books and the woods to Wyldfyre. They all sat and Kodlak poured them a tankard of mead which Wyldfyre drank gratefully.

Kodlak listened intently when Wyldfyre relayed her stories to him, frowning when she told of the vampire kidnapping and then smiling proudly when she told of the two dragons she had defeated.

“You have indeed grown strong my daughter” he said, nodding. Farkas beamed at her.

“I am sorry I have been away for so long and have neglected my duties as a Companion” she hung her head. Kodlak nodded and looked at Farkas who also looked like he wanted to apologise for something, but then decided not to. They finished their mead and Kodlak finally stood, encouraging Farkas and Wyldfyre to do the same.

“Skjor has a task for you” Kodlak said then “For you both”. Wyldfyre and Farkas looked at each other. “Speak to Skjor, he will give you the details” As they turned to leave, Kodlak put his hand on Farkas’s arm.

“My son, it is time” he smiled kindly. Farkas grinned then, his happiness washing over Kodlak like a wave.

“What was that about?” Wyldfyre asked him as they walked down the long corridor of the dorms.

“I’ll tell you soon” he said to her. They found Skjor sitting with Aela outside, watching Vilkas and Lydia sparring.

“Welcome back shield sister” Aela said to Wyldfyre who smiled.

“Thank you Aela. It’s good to be back” she said as she looked at Farkas, who winked at her. Skjor stood and led them to a privet spot, one of the lookouts that looked over the Eastern side of Whiterun hold. He got straight to the point.

“You are both going to Dustman’s Cairn. Farkas, you know where it is?” Farkas nodded “Good. We have had word of some members of The Silver Hand holed up in there, digging around. We can’t let them find what it is that they are looking for.”

“And what is it that they are after?” Wyldfyre asked. Skjor looked at her, and she felt uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

“A piece of Wuuthrad. The battleaxe of Ysgramor.” Wyldfyre nodded, remembering the story of the leader of the five hundred Companions. They ended their meeting and walked up to the Sky Forge to see what Eorlund could do for Wyldfyre about her armour. He took one look at it and tossed it away. Wyldfyre nearly protested, but remained silent as Eorlund walked around her sizing her up. He measured her from top to toe and mumbled to himself as he wrote down the measurements. Wyldfyre looked over to Farkas who was grinning, thinking the whole process amusing.

“Well, come back in a few days” Eorlund said, patting Wyldfyre on the shoulder. “Off you go lass”. Wyldfyre, confused went down the stairs and turned back to Breezehome.

“Is that it?” she said to Farkas “We didn’t even discuss what I wanted, or how much it will cost” Farkas walked beside her and shrugged.

“He knows what he is doing” he said. Then he brightened. “We’ve got a couple of days, I wonder what we can do in those two days?” he looked at her and she felt the lust rising in her belly.

****​

​

“This is not what I had in mind” Wyldfyre complained. The next day Farkas had taken her away, out of Whiterun, past Riverwood and along Lake Ilinalta. When they had come to a certain spot he had blind folded her and had taken her hands and was now leading her over rocks and up a path. Wyldfyre stumbled over another rock.

“Ow” she said “This had better be worth it”. Farkas led her to a flat spot and stood behind her and slowly untied her blindfold. He held it in place for a while.

“I wanted to show you this later, after I was sure.”

“Sure about what? Farkas you aren’t making any sense”

“Never mind. Just know that this is for you. To show how much I love you, and that I have been thinking about what you said before you left.”

“Can I see?” Wyldfyre said, now anxious to see where Farkas had brought her.

“Oh yeah” he stammered, before whipping off the blindfold. Wyldfyre stood there dumbfounded. Before her was the most beautiful house she had ever seen. It had a small entry hall and then the main part of the house went back so far.

“Farkas” she breathed, amazed. “How?” Farkas beamed at her, he had been worried that she would not like the house and her reaction now squashed any doubts that he had had. He took her hand and led her inside.

“It’s not quite finished yet” he said as they walked through the small entry into the main hall of the house. It had a high beamed ceiling with rooms off to both sides and stairs that led to the upstairs wings. It reminded her of the mead hall a little. He showed her the kitchen that was half finished, the fireplace and a real stone oven still being constructed buy a couple of workmen who nodded politely to her and winked at Farkas.

There was a back room with a trapdoor, leading down into the basement that was cool and dark and perfect for keeping their food stores. Just off the back room was a tower.

“You can have anything you want in here” he said to her. They went up the stairs and walked through the guest rooms before going back down to the last two rooms. Farkas opened the first door and Wyldfyre saw a huge bed in the middle of the floor. It had a proper stuffed mattress and linens.

“Our room” he winked at her. He then led her to the other room and as he pushed open the door he stepped back and let Wyldfyre through. She looked around the room. It had two little beds, one on either wall, with matching chests and shelving that was full of children’s books and toys. Wyldfyre felt her heart swell and she turned back to Farkas who stood in the doorway, a shy look on his face.

“Lydia decorated this room for us” he said. Wyldfyre rushed over to him and lost herself in his embrace.

“Do you like it?” he asked her. Wyldfyre shook her head.

“No. I love it, and I love you”. Wyldfyre stepped away and pulled out her amulet, taking great care to put it around her neck as Farkas watched. She looked at him intently. He stepped towards her and touched the amulet gently.


“Of course” he said simply. For Wyldfyre, it was enough.

 

[Brewman]

Very sweet

 

[shadowkitty]

CHAPTER FORTY ONE: A lovers journey


It was late afternoon the next day and Farkas and Wyldfyre, along with Vilkas and Lydia were out on the deck of their lakeside home, enjoying a bottle or two of mead. Farkas and Wyldfyre had spent the night in the house and had been joined by Lydia and Vilkas the next morning, who were both delighted when Farkas announced their engagement. They had then spent most of the day working on the house. Lydia and Wyldfyre worked in the garden and animal pens while the twins constructed the stables across from the house. Wyldfyre was content as she dug away at the dirt, the pleasant earthy smell filling her nostrils.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about this” she said to Lydia, who was tying off the woven fencing with rope. Lydia laughed.

“It wasn't my secret to tell” she told her friend. Wyldfyre wasn't really mad at her. She was secretly delighted that the three of them had worked so hard on the house, all of them not giving up on her. It showed her how much she was loved. She looked over to the Twins and watched Farkas as he lifted a pole onto his bare shoulders. She loved how his muscled bunched up and itched to run her hands over them.

“I know that look” Lydia said studying her. “And right now we are digging and they are building”. Wyldfyre laughed.

“So how did you and Vilkas happen, not that it’s a big surprise?”. Lydia blushed.

“When you left, Farkas was pretty mad” Wyldfyre felt a pang of guilt for leaving Lydia on her own to deal with him. “Vilkas stood up for me and he helped me. I guess one thing lead to another and we, you know”. Wyldfyre nodded.

“I am so sorry” she apologised for the umpteenth time. Lydia shrugged.

“Again, it’s all right. You have explained why you left, I am not mad at you, how could I be?” She then looked down at the ground. “I actually have a confession to make myself” Wyldfyre stopped digging. Lydia looked up, remorse on her face.

“I slept in your bed. We. Vilkas and I slept in your bed. I am sorry”. She looked so stricken that Wyldfyre could not help but laugh. Lydia blinked, surprised at her outburst. The twins looked over to see what was so funny.

“I’m sorry” she chuckled “I thought you were about to confess something horrible to me, something as horrible as what I have done.” She smiled “Don’t worry about it. In fact, I have something to give you.” She fished out a key on a leather thong and put it into Lydia’s hands.

“The key to Breezehome?” Lydia looked at her confused. “I already have a key”

“Yes but this is my key” Wyldfyre said. Lydia studied it, her eyes widening when she realised what Wyldfyre was trying to say.

“It’s yours” Wyldfyre said to her. Lydia opened her mouth and then shut it again. She was dumbfounded at Wyldfyre’s generous gift. She had a house. Her own house. Tears crept to her eyes as she put the key around her neck and she hugged Wyldfyre.

****​

​

Wyldfyre held up the scraps of green and brown leather.

“This is armour?” she asked. Eorlund had just proudly presented her with a full set of the armour and Wyldfyre was down in Aela’s room trying it on.

“Of course it is, this is the finest armour you could have Wyldfyre.” She stood there, hands on her hips. “This is ancient Nord Armour. The same as mine. Be thankful you didn’t have to raid a tomb to get yours. Look” she pointed to the new steel buckles and flat chainmail skirt. “Eorlund has made this from new, like mine, but still keeping with the traditional style of our ancestors”. Wyldfyre studied Aela’s armour, having never really noticed it before. It was nice armour, she would give that, but it was a little on the skimpy side. The green leather cuirass was nothing but two strips that covered her breasts, held together with leather straps that went around her back and some nice decorative steel pieces on the front. The skirt was a couple of brown leather flaps covered with flat chain mail. There were steel shoulder plates that gave her a little bit of protection.

She liked the gauntlets though. They were made from a thick leather with steel studs that circled her forearms nicely. Underneath they were padded with more of the green leather that hooked over her thumbs and went all the way up past her elbows. She liked the look of them and knew they would be very comfortable to use with the bow. She could see the sense in the gauntlets. The boots were also sturdy and comfortable, and Eorlund had made pockets inside each of them to hide one or two daggers down.

She slipped into the armour and walked around in it, settling it into place then pulled on the boots and gauntlets. She had to admit, it felt nice to wear and freed up her movements considerably. But that was due to the lack of it covering her body. Aela studied her, impressed with what she saw.

“Looks good” she said to her. She led her out of the dorms and up the stairs and out into the practice yard. Farkas and Vilkas were sparring and when Farkas saw Wyldfyre he stopped, his jaw hanging open. Vilkas, ever the opportunist, dealt Farkas a blow to the ribs. Farkas hardly even noticed though as he watched Wyldfyre and Aela as they stepped onto the practice field. Aela took up a sword and Wyldfyre drew hers and they began to spar. Aela was not a one handed fighter but she was a tough opponent all the same. The two fought each other for a while before Wyldfyre swept at Aela’s feet, knocking her to the ground and dealt a mock death blow before stepping back and helping Aela to her feet. It was only then that Wyldfyre noticed a small crowd had gathered to watch the pair. The crowd clapped and then wandered off, the men giving Farkas a playful punch to the arm.
“How did that feel” Aela asked her. Wyldfyre tested the shoulder plates.

“Actually it felt really good. I take back what I said about the armour. Eorlund chose well” Aela nodded and left Wyldfyre. Farkas came up behind her and ran his hands over her bare back.

“You look amazing” he said to her. Wyldfyre shivered at his touch. She sheathed her sword and turned to him.

“I guess we are ready to go then?” she asked him. Farkas was already in his wolf armour and had packed some supplies. They bid farewell to Lydia and Vilkas and left the city. They turned west towards the Western Watch Tower that would then take them to the road that turned north towards Dustman’s Cairn. They walked along the road in comfortable silence for a while.

“How many places have you been to in Skyrim?” she asked Farkas. He thought for a minute.

“With all the jobs I’ve done with the Companions, I think I’ve been pretty much everywhere. Well, almost everywhere”. When Wyldfyre asked him how he knew which way to go he merely shrugged and said it was instinct. Wyldfyre again started to wonder whether Farkas was all that he appeared to be. His uncanny strength and ability to hear things way before her, as well as being able to journey somewhere just on instinct alone. These were not things a normal person could do. She was also suspicious about his disappearances at night. Lydia had told her that Vilkas did the same. She had also mentioned, during a more intimate talk between the two friends that when Vilkas returned from his night missions that he was almost wild in his attentions towards her. Farkas was just the same. It was much like what Wyldfyre felt after she had absorbed a dragon soul. Completely untamed.

Her thoughts brought her back to the Circle of Companions and their strange ways. Their yellowed eyes and the way they knew where the others were at all times. They had a strange connection that Wyldfyre was dying to know what it was. She had the feeling it wasn’t something human. She wished Farkas would tell her. She knew now that this was what had made him hesitate when she had first brought up marriage. She felt a little hurt that he had not told her his secret as of yet. Every day she waited for him to tell her. She had figured that Kodlak had ordered him not to, but still, she was now his fiancée and she felt she had the right to know. She had not left any secrets about herself. She had told Farkas everything about her past and what she had done in the weeks she was away from him.

Every now and then Farkas would fall back and after the fifth time, Wyldfyre stopped to see what it was that he was doing.

“Why do you keep falling behind?” she asked, frustrated “Surely you are not tired?” Farkas grinned at her.

“No, it’s just this new armour of yours. Looks as good from behind as it does up front” he said, raising one eyebrow at her. Wyldfyre turned and started walking again, putting an extra swing to her hips.

“Like this?” she called. She was answered by Farkas giving her a playful swat on the backside. Two hours later they came to a small path leading off the road that took them directly to the ruin. It was basically a mound with stairs leading down into a pit with a large metal door. Wyldfyre got a familiar twinge in her stomach. Old Nordic ruins seemed to be her bane. Farkas led her down the stairs into the pit. He opened the heavy double doors and they entered the ruins. They both unsheathed their weapons as they started through the tunnels and chambers, having to stop once or twice to fight a draugr or two. The Draugr were no match for the two warriors and they made their way through the ruins with relative ease.

They came to a large open chamber and Wyldfyre left Farkas’s side to find a way through the gate that barred their way further into the cairn. She entered a room and found a leaver and, not even thinking, pulled on it. Suddenly a gate thundered down and trapped Wyldfyre inside the room. Farkas rushed over to her.

“Are you all right?” he asked her, his worried face peering through the bars.

“I’m fine, but I can’t get this leaver to work” she answered him, pulling the leaver back and forth. The gate would not budge. Farkas tested the gate in his hands and even his strength could not move it. He gave a frustrated growl that reminded Wyldfyre of herself.

The rush came from side chambers. Farkas was suddenly surrounded by six warriors, in various armour. Wyldfyre could only look on helplessly as they menaced him with their weapons.

“I recognize this one” sneered a woman in steel plate armour “It’s one of the twins”


“It doesn’t matter who it is, it’s going to die!” shouted a man brandishing an evil looking battle axe. Wyldfyre’s heart beat frantically as she grabbed at her bow, trying to notch an arrow to give Farkas what little help she could give.

Yet he stood there calmly.

As one of the warriors stepped in closer, Farkas’s body suddenly started to shimmer and change. Before Wyldfyre’s horrified eyes, his armour fell to the ground as his body convulsed and shifted from a man into a great black towering beast with rippling muscles and sharp claws at the ends of his hands. He let out a savage snarl and the warriors all rushed in to attack.

 

[shadowkitty]

I apologise in advance for the corny chapter name, I couldn't help it.. anyway, you guys have cleaned me out, this is it until after christmas. Enjoy thank you for being so supportive and enjoying this fanfic.
CHAPTER FORTY TWO: Beauty and the Beast


Wyldfyre, after a slight moment of hesitation raised her bow and aimed for the nearest enemy, bringing him down with a single shot. She kept her eyes on the fight as she reached for another arrow, watching as the man-beast Farkas fought off each rushing attack from the warriors that she now assumed to be members of The Silverhand.

He slashed one of the men across the front with his claws and the man went down screaming, great gaping slashes left on his body. Wyldfyre loosed another arrow and took the female Silverhand in the leg, and as she screamed in pain Farkas drove his teeth into her neck, ending her screams. Blood and gore was splattered everywhere as the woman’s body was thrown to the side like a rag doll. The remaining Silverhand members all backed off and turned and ran, with Farkas following closely behind. Soon they were out of sight and Wyldfyre strained against the bars, trying to see. She could only hear men screaming and savage growling and it got fainter and soon she could not hear anything at all.

Wyldfyre stood there in shock. She could see the bodies of the Silverhand members lying out in the chamber. Two of them were almost ripped apart by Farkas. Oh my love, what are you? What have you done? She shook her head. She waited for Farkas to return to perhaps finish her off as well. She was suddenly very frightened, and backed further into the small chamber she was trapped in until she felt the wall behind her. It was of little comfort. Where are you? She fretted. Worried that something had happened to him. She had conflicting emotions running through her. She was frightened by what she had just witnessed, but she was more frightened of losing her love.

After what seemed like ages she heard a noise off to her left and then Farkas came into view. He was himself again, covered in blood and limping slightly, but he appeared to be fine. Wyldfyre’s relief washed over her. She came to the bars and held her hands out through them.

“Farkas!” she called. He rushed over to her and took her hands in his and kissed them. She desperately wanted to be in his arms.

“Hang on” he said “I’ll see if I can get you out of there, I saw a leaver over there when I…” He set off and she stepped back as the gate opened and he was by her side again and wrapped her in his arms.

“I’m sorry if I scared you” he said. Wyldfyre nodded, just glad that he was not hurt.

“So that was your big secret?” she asked “What was that?”. Farkas looked slightly embarrassed, he moved over to his armour and started putting it back on.

“We, I mean the Circle, are werewolves. We have the beast blood in us.”

“How did you get it?” Wyldfyre asked as she helped Farkas strap his armour on.

“Some say it’s a blessing, others say it’s a curse. Whatever it is, all I know is it makes me stronger, faster, and more alive than I have ever felt.”

“Where did it come from?” she asked him fascinated.

“I don’t really remember, but I think it had something to do with hagravens.” He said as he settled his armour into place. He picked up his sword and sheathed it again.

“Hag Ravens?”

“No, Hagravens. Witches.”

“Oh” she nodded, not understanding anything Farkas was saying. He looked at her and grinned.

“You are taking this really well” he said to her. Wyldfyre smiled wryly.

“I had my suspicions anyway, I just didn’t think it would be, that” she gestured to the bodies. Farkas looked at them and then quickly turned away, seemingly ashamed at what he had done.

“I only did it to protect you” he said, looking in her eyes.

“You still know who I am when you are a werewolf?” she asked, surprised.

“I can” he nodded “When you went missing, I searched for you in my beast form. I picked up your smell, even after you were gone for days, I tracked it to the lake..”

“Oh” Wyldfyre looked ashamed, remembering exactly what happened at that particular lake.

“We should keep moving” Farkas said then “We made a bit of noise just then and I am betting that there are more of the Silverhand in here”

“So they were Silverhand members?” Wyldfyre asked as they continued on through the tunnels.

“Yeah, and they’ve been digging around in here. We need to hurry, or they are going to find the shard before we do.” They encountered more Silverhand members and Wyldfyre and Farkas both fought them off with their blades. Wyldfyre felt like Farkas was holding back a bit and she even caught him watching her at one stage while she engaged one of the warriors. She had no idea why he was backing off like he was, but chose not to say anything about it.

“Wait” Wyldfyre said, stopping them both in a tunnel. Farkas looked at her expectantly. “That night, at Halted Stream Camp, when I told you I thought there was something in there with me. That was you, wasn’t it?” Farkas looked embarrassed and amused at the same time. He nodded. Wyldfyre punched him in the arm and he protested.

“You nearly scared me half to death!” she scolded him.

“I was worried about you, I needed to find you, quickly, so I changed” he explained to her. He looked like a naughty child being scolded and Wyldfyre’s irritation at him melted away. She kissed him quickly and they continued on through the ruin.

They descended some stairs that were covered in spider webs and Wyldfyre noticed Farkas following her closer than before, his eyes darting from side to side. As they entered a web encased chamber, frostbite spiders swarmed on them. Farkas swung his sword wildly, seemingly to have forgotten his years of training completely. Wyldfyre was not terribly worried about the spiders and hacked at them with her own sword, making sure to hit them where it would deal the most damage. Farkas, meanwhile seemed only able to sever limbs which went flying off in all directions.

“Farkas!” Wyldfyre called out as she stabbed another spider through the thorax “Stop playing with them and kill them!” She ducked as another spider leg went sailing through the air.

“I’m trying” he said through gritted teeth. Wyldfyre realised that Farkas was afraid of the spiders. Farkas, my big bad Companion and werewolf, afraid of a spider? She stepped over to help him with the last two spiders, dealing with them neatly. Farkas backed away from the pile of dead spiders and Wyldfyre did what she could to contain her grin. He looked at her and glared.

“Not a word” he said to her. Wyldfyre shook her head.

“Absolutely” she grinned. He looked at the spiders and shuddered and then led Wyldfyre through the door to continue deeper into the cairn.

When they reached the last massive chamber, after all of the Draugr, spiders and Silverhand members they had encountered, it was eerily quiet. They made their way quietly through the chamber which was lined on both sides with many of the black sarcophagi and as they neared the back, Wyldfyre heard a familiar chanting in her head. She smiled and quickened her pace towards the raised dais, with a single coffin and a podium with what looked to be the fragment of Wuuthrad lying on it. Wyldfyre ignored all of that as she was drawn to the word wall, unable to resist its ancient call.

“What is it?” Farkas called after her “Wyldfyre, I don’t think you should rush on ahead”

“It’s all right” she called back “Whatever happens to me, please don’t touch me until this is finished”

“Until what’s finished?”. Wyldfyre did not answer Farkas as she took the stairs in one bound and walked straight up to the word wall at the back of the chamber. Already the word was glowing and when she stopped just in front of it, it seemed to jump off the wall and entered her body. Again her vision faded and she swayed as she felt the dragon souls inside her stir and consume the new word. She then felt the new word inside her. Fire. It was a shout that produced a jet of fire. Wyldfyre was beyond amazed at the power the new word. As her vision returned she turned to see Farkas taking the fragment off podium. Just as he lifted it, a number of the sarcophagi burst open and draugr stepped out from them.

She grabbed out her bow and loosed arrow after arrow at the draugr. Some of her shots were affective but then she had to discard her bow as more draugr burst from their coffins. Farkas and Wyldfyre fought side by side, keeping each others’ backs as the draugr advanced on them. It was not the most graceful of fights, as they hacked and slashed at the walking dead. Heads and limbs were severed, and bodies started piling up around them.

“This is not good” Farkas shouted. Wyldfyre agreed with him and the two separated and went their own ways to fight off the draugr. Wyldfyre encountered one with a frost spell and countered it with a fire spell in one hand while she slashed at it with her sword. It fell in a pile of burnt armour and skin. The draugr hoard was soon thinning out and as Wyldfyre dispatched the last of hers, she turned to find Farkas had already finished with his and was watching her. They grinned at each other but then were interrupted by the final coffin, the one on the dais, bursting open.

“It’s a Deathlord!” Wyldfyre shouted as the draugr hauled itself out from its coffin, its ancient armour clinking in the silence. Wyldfyre rushed to stand before it and gathered up her strength and called upon her dragon souls.

“YOL!”. A burning jet of flame shot out of her and engulfed the Deathlord, burning off most of its armour. It staggered back Farkas took that opportunity to slash at it with his sword. It bit into the Deathlords ribs, bringing it down on one leg. Wyldfyre swung her sword in a wide arc and sliced off the Deathlords head, sending it flying. The rest of the body toppled over in a cloud of dust. Wyldfyre stepped back, coughing. She looked up at Farkas who was staring at the burnt draugr.

“That worked better than I was expecting” she said. Farkas grinned at her and grabbed her hand, drawing her to him.

“We make a good team” he said as he nuzzled her neck. Wyldfyre stood in his embrace for a while before he let her go.

“Come on, we need to get out of here, we don’t know if there are any more of the SiIverhand coming back.” They looted a chest in a small chamber off to the right and then took a tunnel that took them back to the beginning of the cairn. As they ascended the steps out of the pit, Wyldfyre remained deep in thought.

“Farkas” she stopped him at the top of the stairs. “Do we have to go back to the Hall straight away?”

“What do you have in mind?” he asked her curious.

“Well I have something I need to find, something important, and I would like for us to get it together”. Farkas looked out over the plains of Whiterun hold, evening was setting in and the sky glowed shades of pink and orange. He looked at the woman he loved.


“Where are we going?”

 

[shadowkitty]

I am back! I hope you all enjoy these exciting new chapters of Wyldfyre. Oh, and this one is a little steamy, to start you off.. haha.

Adult content.
CHAPTER FORTY THREE: Trouble in Morthal


Dragonborn--
I need to speak to you. Urgently.
Rent the attic room at the Sleeping Giant Inn in Riverwood, and I'll meet you.
--A friend

Wyldfyre stared down at the note angrily. She had taken it out and read it so many times that it was beginning to get so crumpled the words were barely legible. After all she and Farkas had been through. The long journey to Ustengrav. Discovering the ruins crawling with bandits and Necromancers. Having to battle their entire way through the ruins and nearly getting killed once or twice by the various traps inside, only to discover the horn taken and this note in its place. At least she had discovered another word wall down there. But the word had so far eluded her. She figured she could not use the word until she defeated another dragon and absorbed its soul.

“Love, staring at that letter won’t make the horn appear” Farkas said to her from the camp fire. They had taken the camp that the bandits had set up outside the ruins and Farkas was cooking them an evening meal. Wyldfyre sighed and stuffed the note back into her satchel.

“I know. I’m just so angry. Who took it? And how did they know I was coming for it? When I finally catch up with this person I am going to wring their neck...”

“Easy” Farkas soothed his mate. He came over to her and massaged her shoulders. His hands felt warm through the thin top she was wearing. Wyldfyre was carrying a new scar across her thigh and Farkas was nursing a sore shoulder. They had both taken off their armour while their various wounds healed. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, enjoying the touch of Farkas’s hands and she started to relax.

“Better?” he asked her. Wyldfyre nodded. She looked out beyond their camp as the sun disappeared over the horizon, the sky fading to a dark, dull grey, and shivered. Nights were very chilly in the swampy marshes that flowed out into the Sea of Ghosts.

Wyldfyre got up and moved closer to the fire that was crackling in front of a lean-to. The makeshift wooden structure provided a meagre shelter from the weather but Farkas had made it more comfortable by piling all of the bandits’ fur bedrolls inside it, and covered the roof with clumps of reeds and dried mud. After their meal they lay down together, enjoying the warmth form each other’s bodies.

Wyldfyre asked Farkas about his years in the Companions and how he and his brother had become werewolves. She listened intently when Farkas described his very first transformation and how confusing and painful it was. He stroked her back as he talked, a gesture that came automatically to him now.

“It still hurts” he said to her “But I guess you get used to the pain. It only lasts for a while anyway”. She lay there in silence for a while, feeling the rise and fall of Farkas’s chest.

“Farkas?”

“Yes?”

“What are we going to do?” she asked him fretfully.

“What do you mean?” he frowned in the darkness. Wyldfyre shifted so she could look into his yellow eyes that were no longer strange to her, but beautiful and mesmerizing.

“About you and I, and you being a werewolf? What happens now? Are we allowed to get married? Are we allowed to have children? Can we even have children?”. Farkas blinked at her bombardment of questions. Some he had no answers for.

“Well if we weren’t allowed to be married we’d know about it by now. Kodlak would not allow it. I..I don’t know about children. I never even thought about it. Until I met you, it wasn’t even something I thought would be in my life.” Wyldfyre nodded, understanding. There was a time when she had thought she never wanted to have anyone in her life, let alone a family.

“What do we do about it?” she asked him. Farkas shrugged, as much at a loss as what she was.

“I don’t know my love, I guess we…. Ssshh!” Farkas suddenly stilled, his muscles tensed and his eyes sharp and alert.

“What is it?” Wyldfyre asked alarmed. Farkas’s nostrils flared and he moved her to the side and slowly got into a crouch position, scanning the countryside beyond the light of their fire. A low growl vibrated inside him. Wyldfyre reached down and pulled her dagger out of her boot.

“Farkas?” she whispered to him urgently. He held up a hand and tilted his head, listening.

“Were” he said. Wyldfyre’s hair stood on end. She sheathed her dagger and grabbed her sword instead.

“Someone you know?” she asked, silently praying it was. Farkas’s head swung to the left as if tracking the intruder. He shook his head.

“No” he said then cursed. He stood and looked back at her, a worried look on his face that alarmed Wyldfyre even more. “Stay here, by the fire, do you hear me? Do NOT go beyond the fire!”. He peeled off his tunic and pants and ran off into the darkness, leaving Wyldfyre alone. As she crouched there, in the glow of the firelight, Wyldfyre heard noises out in the marshes. Growling and snarling, and the occasional yelp. The noises seemed to be in all places, sometimes to the left of her, and sometimes far back over to the right. Wyldfyre gripped her sword as she tried to peer out past the camp. She stood and held her sword in front of her.

Just then a twig snapped to her right and a massive shape moved out from the darkness towards the camp. As it came into view Wyldfyre could see it was a werewolf. It stalked forward on its hind legs, hunched over, sniffing the air. Wyldfyre, for a reason she could not explain, knew that this Were was not Farkas. She stepped back, frightened, and it raised its head, searching for her. As it came closer and closer to the firelight she could see its black fur was covered in blood and Wyldfyre panicked. Is that Farkas’s blood? Where is he? What if he is…? She moved back again and stumbled over her satchel, which caught the Were’s attention. Its head snapped in her direction and its yellow eyes narrowed as it saw her. Great, dripping fangs were revealed as it snarled at her.

Wyldfyre continued backing away slowly, afraid that a sudden movement would make the animal lunge for her. Farkas my love, where are you? She gripped her sword, preparing to fight the beast. It advanced on her and tensed up its muscles, ready to lunge when suddenly it was thrown sideways by a black blur. Farkas! The two Weres went rolling over each other, snapping and biting, claws flashing, trying to rip at the other. Wyldfyre watched in horror as the two beasts fought to the death. She ran to her bow and notched and arrow but the wolves were moving too fast for her to loose a shot. She couldn’t risk hitting Farkas by mistake. She lowered her bow, helpless to do anything but watch.

The two Weres thrashed about, trying to get the upper hand on the other, when one of them finally slipped and the other closed its teeth down on its neck. Wyldfyre tried to see who was who but she could not distinguish between the two in the dim light as the dominant Were ripped the others throat out. Blood splattered everywhere as the dead Were crumpled to the ground. The victor raised its head and howled in triumph into the night sky. Wyldfyre sighed with relief. It was Farkas. He stood there in his beast form, his breath steaming in the chill air. Wyldfyre put down her sword and the Were turned to her, his teeth dripping with the blood of the dead wolf. She carefully walked towards him but he stepped back from her.

“Please” she begged him and she moved closer and closer, a hand held up in front of her until she was able to place it upon the wolves massive chest. His fur was rough under her hand and she ran it up over his shoulder, feeling muscles rippling under the surface of his skin. Farkas breathed heavily as Wyldfyre brought both hands up to run her fingers through his shaggy mane of fur that ran down the back of his neck. She breathed him in. He smelt of blood and earth and of untamed urges and Wyldfyre felt something inside her shift. She stepped back as the beast before her shimmered and convulsed and once again the man she knew was standing before her, bloody and naked. He stared into her eyes with such hunger that Wyldfyre was both afraid and excited.

Farkas grabbed Wyldfyre’s tunic top and ripped it apart, letting the torn fabric fall to the ground. She gasped as he grabbed her and lifted her up, carrying her over to the pile of furs. Their lovemaking was rough and primal but at the same time Wyldfyre had never felt more at one with Farkas, as he utterly consumed her.

*****​

The next morning Wyldfyre was stoking the fire again when Farkas stirred. He stretched and smiled at her sleepily, holding up the furs, inviting her back into bed. She crawled over and slid in next to him, his warm skin taking the chill out of her own. Farkas wrapped his arms around her and drew her close to him, taking in her scent. Wyldfyre ran her hands down his back and shivered when he started kissing her tenderly down her neck.​

​

“Farkas” she said, trying to draw his attention away from her breasts “We can’t stay here forever”

“Why not?” he asked, teasing one nipple with his thumb. She gasped as his fingers pinched the hard nub. Wyldfyre was finding it hard to concentrate on what she wanted to say.

“For one thing, we are terribly exposed here”

“uhuh” he kissed his way down her body, parting her legs.

“And we need to start back to Riverwo….Oh!”

*****​

Later, Farkas winced as Wyldfyre strapped on his shoulder plates.

“Still hurts?” she asked him. He shrugged, trying to settle the armor into a more comfortable position.

“A little. How’s your leg?” Wyldfyre studied the wound on her left thigh. It had started healing already and was feeling better than she had expected.

“It’s actually feeling all right”. Farkas studied it as well then looked up at her quizzically.

“You heal real fast”. Wyldfyre had noticed that herself. Ever since she had absorbed the dragon souls, she could heal more quickly, felt stronger, and her senses were more attune. The Greybeard Arngeir had told her to expect some physical changes in her, so she was not overly worried.

They checked over the camp and then set off southwards, back towards Morthal. As they picked their way through the swampy marsh, Wyldfyre thought about their home by the lake. She smiled when she remembered the look of pride on Farkas’s face when he had first showed her though the house.

Wyldfyre was completely distracted when she bumped into the back of Farkas, who had suddenly stopped. She looked about and frowned. The marsh had gone deathly quiet. It was on twilight and the evening should have been filled with the sound of insects. Farkas lifted his head, sniffing the air.

“Something’s not right” he said in a low tone. Wyldfyre’s hair stood on end.

“Another Were?”. He shook his head.

“No, there are too many of them. They..they smell of death.” He turned towards her, fear in his eyes. Wyldfyre was suddenly frightened as well. What could scare Farkas so much, apart from spiders? They drew their swords and stood back to back as the unseen evil advanced on them. Wyldfyre peered out into the mist and saw dark shapes moving about. They were quick. She heard sinister laughter to her left and her insides quaked with fear. She knew what was stalking them.

“Vampires!” she hissed through gritted teeth.

 

[shadowkitty]

adult content

CHAPTER FORTY FOUR: Pain


Farkas and Wyldfyre stood back to back as the Vampires taunted them, flitting in and out of the shadows, passing so close that Wyldfyre could feel the air shift.

“Steady” Farkas soothed her quietly.

“Look what we find out on our twilight stroll!” a voice called mockingly out from the mist. A dark blur passed them again and Farkas grunted, a bloody slash appearing across his cheek.

“A dog!” a female voice said with disgust “The male is a Were!”

“Oh how disgusting!” said another. Wyldfyre cried out as she was also slashed across her cheek. She heard a low rumbling growl coming from Farkas.

“The female tastes divine! We should take her back to our master”. Wyldfyre’s heart dropped. The vampires out there in the mist were a part of a brood and they had a master.

“Farkas” she whispered urgently “We are in serious trouble here, if they capture us..”

“That won’t happen” he said defiantly.

“..But if it does, there is something about my blood that drives vampires wild. I can’t be taken again! I can’t go through that again.” Wyldfyre was growing more fearful, and Farkas peered at her over his shoulder.

“I won’t let them. Wyldfyre, focus on my voice. Listen to me. We will get out of this, they won’t take you.” Wyldfyre nodded and gripped her sword. They were suddenly rushed at from all directions and Wyldfyre swung her sword. She hit one of the vampires in the arm and sent it off howling into the mist. Another was brandishing a long curved dagger and she slashed at Wyldfyre. She blocked her swings and countered with a broad stroke but the vampire sped away from her. Wyldfyre had no idea how Farkas was doing behind her and did not dare to look, as the vampire came at her again, this time rushing forward and hitting her in the stomach, winding her.

“Do not harm the female!” one of the vampires yelled. “This is the one we have been looking for!” Wyldfyre swung her sword and held up her hand and released a jet of flame from her palm. It hit the dagger wielding vampire and she screeched and turned and ran towards the swamp before vanishing in a pile of ash. Wyldfyre was knocked to the side and she went tumbling to the ground.
She rolled over and saw Farkas trying to fend off three more vampires. He decapitated one of them, but then the other two savagely attacked him, causing him to take a step back. He stumbled on a tree root and in that moment’s distraction, was set upon by the two vampires. The male slashed Farkas across the arm and he suddenly stiffened as if paralysed and fell to the ground.

“Farkas!” Wyldfyre yelled, trying to scramble to her feet. Someone grabbed her from behind by her hair and hit her across her head, with her vision fading, the last thing she saw was her love, laying still on the ground, before she fell into darkness.

****​

​

Wyldfyre came to when someone slapped her across the face. Her eyes flew open and as they came back into focus she found a face looming over her, obscured by the darkness. She cringed away from it and the vampire laughed.

“Nap time is over” the vampire sneered at her, his breath fowl. He stood and left the room, leaving Wyldfyre alone. Her wrists were shackled in irons, connected by a chain that ran through a round metal peg that was fused into the stone floor. The room she was in was small, consisting of nothing but a small pallet bed and one lone candle flickering on a wooden stool. A jug of water sat to her left. She could not see Farkas anywhere. She tried to see out beyond the room but her shackles would only allow for her to get a view of a narrow hallway carved out of rock. It appeared she was in some sort of cave, or old ruin. Farkas my love she fretted where are you? She turned her attention to the shackles and tested the peg that her chains were attached to. It was solid and would not budge.

Wyldfyre tried to slip her hands out of the manacles but they were too tight, and as she pushed against them they bit into her wrists. She worried at the unrelenting metal until she could no longer bare the pain, crying out in frustration. Again she tried to look outside the room, trying to see any evidence of Farkas, but the hallway was devoid of anyone.

“Looking for someone?” a familiar, sinister voice said behind her. Wyldfyre turned slowly to find the Master Vampire Manval smiling down at her.

“My dear. You don’t know how pleased I am to have finally found you again” he said to her pleasantly.

“Where is Farkas?” she glared at him.

“Who? Oh you mean the dog?” he studied his impeccable nails.

“Where is he? If you have hurt him, I will rip your head off..”

“Now now dear, no need to throw threats around here. We are family remember”

“We are no such thing! I am not one of you. I am not a monster!”. Manval’s eyes flashed dangerously.

“Oh but my dear, that is where you are wrong. Soon you will be family, and you will be a monster.” He grabbed her chin hard and glared into her eyes. “Just like me.” He stood and turned to leave.

“Where is Farkas!” Wyldfyre snarled at him. He turned to look at her with malice in his eyes.

“Your dog, is dead”. Wyldfyre stared back at him, shaking her head, not willing to believe.

“NO!” she screamed. Manval’s face filled with triumph as he left the room.

*****​

​

Wyldfyre sat alone in a state of despair and confusion, torn between not wanting to believe that Farkas was dead, and her stubbornness to not take Manval at his word. She knew his mind games. He is just saying that to break me, she tried to convince herself. She tried to search for Farkas with her mind, but could not sense him anywhere. She focused her attention back to escaping and studied the iron manacles. She could not use her fire spell on them without burning herself at the same time, but if she could heat up one link in the chain enough to weaken it she could break free from the peg in the floor. She checked each link until she found one that was not soldered as well as the others and laid it on the floor, twisting her hands around to face it and concentrating on a small but intense flame.

The link began to glow red as it heated, but Wyldfyre was beginning to tire from the efforts of maintaining the spell for so long. She strained against her depleting strength until she could bare it no longer and the flames spluttered and vanished. She tried the link to see if she could break it, pulling back on the chain as hard as she could. She felt it give a little but not enough before it started to cool and harden again. At least I moved it a little. The vampires had been extremely thorough when disarming her, even finding her hidden daggers inside her boots. She was grateful that she was still in her armour. She shifted to her left, trying to reach the jug of water but it was just out of her reach. Most likely on purpose.

Two male vampires entered the room and Wyldfyre noticed that they were well armed.

“Time for some fun” one of them said to her. The other leant down and unshackled one of her wrists, unthreading the chain through the peg. Wyldfyre thought about fighting back until the other placed a dagger to her throat.

“Try anything and you will bleed”. They made her stand and clapped the iron about her wrist again and led her out of the room. They passed through the long hallway that had doors on either side. Behind the closed doors Wyldfyre heard various noises, some screams of pain, and others moans of pleasure. The vampire behind her shoved her roughly up the stairs and down another corridor until they reached a large chamber that was lit by dozens of candelabras. A large post stood in the centre of the room and it was to this that Wyldfyre was shackled with her hands above her head. As she stood there a loud gong rang out and soon after a dozen vampires were gathered around her.

They were all of varying races, Nords, Bosmer, an Orc, but they all had one thing in common. They all looked at Wyldfyre like they wanted nothing but to devour her. Wyldfyre tried to portray a calm exterior while inside she was panicking. She knew she was about to experience pain and humiliation. They vampires circled around her hissing and laughing, making mocking howling sounds until suddenly they went quite and Lord Manval entered the room. He strolled up to Wyldfyre and caressed her face, as she cringed away from him. He smiled at her then turned to his brood.

“My children” he said, holding out his hands to them “You have pleased me greatly in bringing to me my one prized possession.” He turned back to Wyldfyre, stroking her arm.

“This one is special my children.” His hand went up to her shoulder and he unbuckled her shoulder plate, letting it fall to the ground. “Unlike anything you have ever had before” His nostrils flared at the memory of the taste of her, as her other shoulder plate fell to the floor. He unbuckled her armour and the cuirass gave way exposing her breasts. He ogled them for a moment before turning to his brood again.

“And I will not have any of you say that I am not a hard master. I give credit where credit is due. Step forward, those that brought her to me.” Five vampires stepped forward. Manval frowned.

“There were two more?” A male Orc pointed to Wyldfyre.

“She and her dog killed them” he said. Manval chuckled, not seeming to care about his fallen children.

“Yes I do believe she would have. My queen is a feisty one” he said with pride in his voice. “Now then, in gratitude I will let you feed on her. But!” he held up a hand and glared at the vampires gathered in front of him “Only feed. You are not to turn her, that privilege is reserved for me. If I see any one of you biting her, I will turn the lot of you into ash. Am I understood?”

“Yes master” they answered.

“Good. Now feed my children”. The Vampires advanced on Wyldfyre, their eyes glowing with excitement, and she cringed back shaking her head, remembering the pain she felt when the vampire had first fed on her.

“No, please!”. Lord Manval shook his head.

“Now my Queen, do not beg, that is so unbecoming. A Queen does not beg. Stand tall and take your punishment for leaving me.” The vampires slit her skin, some with daggers, and others with their sharp nails and soon Wyldfyre was bleeding from several cuts to her body. A young male vampire latched onto her thigh, his eyes growing wild with ecstasy as he tasted her blood.

The pain was intense and Wyldfyre cried out. A female nord suckled on a cut on her breast, another finding the vein in her neck. Wyldfyre writhed in agony as the five vampires fed off her, all lost in the taste of her exquisite blood. She screamed in pain and from down below in the depths of the ruin, she heard a furious howling. Farkas?

She tried to gain control of her senses as the vampires feeding on her intensified as they grew more aroused. The Orc was particularly savage as he fed from a cut on her other breast, squeezing it painfully.

“Farkas!” she screamed out. Lord Manval glared at her, his nostrils flaring and a look of rage on his face. He loomed in front of her as the vampires continued feeding, groping at her body.

“Who is this dog to you?” he hissed at her. Wyldfyre was beginning to feel weak and her head was swimming.

“Farkas, my love” she whispered as she succumbed to the pain and fell into blackness.

*****​

​

“Wyldfyre” someone whispered to her. She lay on the cold hard stone, her head spinning. Her hand was held in someone’s hand. It was warm to the touch.

“My love” he said again. Wyldfyre struggled to regain her senses as her vision swam into view. She was looking up at a stone ceiling. She turned her head slightly and saw Farkas through rusty metal bars.

“Farkas?” she asked him, not daring to believe it was really him. He squeezed her hand.

“It’s me, my love, I’m here” She tried to sit up but was too dizzy and relaxed back onto the floor.

“Where are we?”. Farkas looked out beyond the bars of his cage.

“I’m not sure. I’m not familiar with this ruin. I think we are still in Morthal though”

Wyldfyre winced in pain as she tried to shift in a more comfortable position. Farkas looked at her, worry and anger flashing across her face.

“I am so sorry” he fretted “I couldn’t save you”. She shook her head, giving his hand a squeeze, it was all she could manage for now.

“It’s not your fault my love, I don’t know what they did to you, but you were helpless after you fell. I am just glad that you are still alive” tears welled in her eyes “They told me you were dead”

“They wish” he hissed through gritted teeth. “They threw me in here and were going to try but I changed and they haven’t been game to come near me. I thought they had forgotten about me down here. I have been in beast form, trying to search out anyone from the circle, but I have had no luck so far. Just a slight hint of Aela nearby but not enough to communicate.”

“You can do that?” Wyldfyre asked, even in her state she was curious. Farkas nodded, then realising Wyldfyre had closed her eyes again answered her.

“Yes. That’s what I’ve been trying to do since they threw me in this damned cage. I..I heard you scream”

“And I heard you answer me” she smiled. “I think that was what made them stop. Manval seemed to be furious before I blacked out”

“Manval? You know this vampire?” he asked surprised. Wyldfyre nodded, she shakily raised herself up on one elbow, noticing she was still naked, and bleeding.

“The master Vampire I told you about. They one whom kidnapped me in Riften.” Farkas swore.

“I guess he kept looking for me” she said.

“This is my fault” Farkas said angrily. She sat up and shuffled over to the cage Farkas was being held in, threading her arms through the bars, reaching out for him. He came to her and they held each other. Farkas smoothed down her hair.

“They hurt you” he said, furious at all the bleeding cuts on her.

“I’m all right” she lied. The wounds hurt terribly and she was having a hard time trying to ignore the pain.


“We will get out of this, I know you will find a way” she said to him “Keep searching for your family, they will come” she soothed. She had to believe they would come.

 

[Brewman]

OMG I just want to save her myself!

 

[shadowkitty]

Adult content

CHAPTER FORTY FIVE: Slaughter in Morthal


Wyldfyre and Farkas sat there in each others’ arms through the bars of his cage, trying to convince each other that some form of rescue would come. But neither really held out any hope, as they did not tell anyone where they were going when they had decided to take the trip to Ustengrav. Why would anyone come looking for them here? They didn’t even know where here was. Farkas sighed.

“We need to think of something. I don’t think rescue is going to come, unless I happen upon someone out there”. He lifted his head and examined the cage. It was a heavy iron construction with large iron bolts that were riveted when the bars were hot, causing them to shrink around the metal bolts when it cooled. Eorlund had taught Farkas enough at his forge to know that breaking through the bolts was near on impossible, even when in his beast form. He had already tried that and failed.

“I’m not strong enough to break this cage” he said “ but I may be able to break through the gate, if it was weakened somehow.” He looked around the room for something that Wyldfyre could use to pry open the cage door. Wyldfyre sat up and examined the lock mechanism on the cage door. It was heavy and formidable, but she had an idea.

“I have something better” she held up her hands. “I can try to heat the metal to weaken it, while you use your strength to push on it from the other side”. Farkas nodded and got to his feet. He stood there naked, not wanting to put his armour back on, in case he needed to change again, quickly. Wyldfyre looked towards the dungeon door and, hearing no-one, held her hands over the lock. She concentrated on her fire spell and directed the flames onto the mechanism. It took more out of her this time, in her weakened state. She thought about using her fire shout at the lock but didn’t want to risk alerting someone, or hitting Farkas with it. As the lock heated it started to glow red and Farkas pushed on the bars of the gate. It didn’t move. He strained against it but it remained still.

“I’m going to have to change” he said stepping back, not waiting for Wyldfyre’s response. She watched as his body convulsed and shimmered into his huge beast form. Then he began ramming the gate. Wyldfyre continued directing a flame at the lock, but was worried about the noise Farkas was making, ramming the gate as he was. The gate was beginning to buckle under the pressure of his brute strength and the glowing red lock. Just as Wyldfyre thought they may have been successful, three vampires burst into the room. Two of them grabbed Wyldfyre by her arms, pinning them to her side. Her flames went out and Farkas growled and rammed the bars again. The third vampire laughed and stalked around the cage, thrusting his sword in and out of the bars, trying to strike Farkas.

“Look at the dog growl!” he teased, as the others laughed. Farkas tried to grab the steal and the vampire drew it out before it was lost to him. He stood there and sneered. He motioned to the other two and they brought Wyldfyre over closer to the cage. He leered over Wyldfyre and licked at a drop of blood on her breast, making a show of savoring the taste. Farkas beat at the bars savagely and the vampires laughed. The two vampires holding Wyldfyre, roughly shoved her up against the bars. Wyldfyre could feel Farkas’s hot breath on her bare skin. She looked into his yellow eyes.

“Say goodbye to your dog my queen” the vampire said mockingly. They started to drag Wyldfyre away and she reached out for Farkas just as he thrust his great black arm through the bars. Fingers and claws briefly touched before Wyldfyre was dragged out of the room, with Farkas’s roaring ringing in her ears.

*****​

​

She was strung up on the post again and Manval sat in a chair to the right of her as he watched his minions feed on her again and again. This time they came at her one at a time to feed on the cuts they had made before. All except for one. Each time the Orc came to feed he made a new cut on her with his thin curved blade. Wyldfyre did not know why the Orc was particularly cruel to her, until she was told that she had killed his mate out there in the swamp. She held no remorse at all, it was either kill or be killed. The Orc delighted in slicing away at her skin, making her scream in pain as he suckled hard, draining her blood. Her head fell forward as she felt her life ebb from her body.

“Enough!” Manval clapped and stood. The Orc glared at Wyldfyre, her blood dripping from his tusks, and slunk back into the shadows. Manval came over to her and lifted her head. She closed her eyes, not wanting to look at the monster any more. She was tired, so tired.

“I think my queen has been drained enough” he said. He motioned to some vampires who took her down from the post, removed her iron shackles and carried her through the corridors of the ruins. Wyldfyre slipped in and out of sleep, barely noticing when she was laid out on a bed, her head nestled into a soft pillow. Manval lay down beside her and stroked her flaming red hair. She had no more strength to resist him. As he moved over her she felt his fangs pierce the skin on her neck as he drained the last of her blood. He then slit his wrist with a sharpened nail and forced her mouth open. She felt his blood trickle down her throat and she closed her eyes and thought about Farkas and her home by the lake as the last spark of life left her.

“And now my dear” Manval purred to her “You must die”.

*****​

​

She awoke to find herself in a large bed in a room that had been decorated with faded tapestries and old shield plaques. The sheet covering her was spotted with her blood as was the one under her. Her wounds were gone entirely and she wondered how long she had been asleep for. Wyldfyre was surprised to find she was dressed in a white silk shift, it too, spotted with blood. She rose from the bed, her bare feet touching the cold rock floor. She felt strong. And thirsty. A thirst like she had never felt before. She was confused. She vaguely remembered Manval draining the last of her life away but after that she could not recall anything. She ran her fingers through her long loose hair and frowned at how cold her skin felt. Yet she didn’t feel a chill in the air.

What is going on? She looked around confused. She knew she was still in Manval’s room, but she no longer felt afraid. She was not shackled in irons, and there was no-one guarding the door. Wyldfyre left the room and wandered the halls of the ruins, searching. What am I searching for? She frowned. She followed along an invisible trail of enticing new scents that led her to a room full of cages. There were people in the cages, yet Wyldfyre saw them differently. She was not seeing them as people any more, but as a means to end her hunger.

Wyldfyre stumbled back as she realized that she wanted to drain the blood out of them. Out of all of them. What am I? The humans in the cages groaned and moaned at her. Some in fear and others pleading with her to feed on them. Wyldfyre was horrified and compelled at the same time. The dragon souls moved inside her and she struggled to quell the feelings the beasts were stirring up. The hunger. It was unbearable. She needed to sate it. The souls urged her forward as she advanced on a cage that held a young Nord man. She barely noticed that he was her age as she opened the cage, her vision tinted red as she moved towards him. His face filled with fear and adoration as he was confronted by the beautiful red-haired vampire in the thin silk shift, with hunger in her eyes.

Wyldfyre felt her arms wrap around the young man and she drew him to her. He whimpered as she gently turned his head to the side, exposing his neck to her. Wyldfyre felt her throat constrict as her fangs pierced the smooth skin and his blood ran into her mouth. She held onto him and they slid down to the floor as she suckled at his neck, draining his life blood from him. She felt his blood sear through her veins, awakening new urges in her as he pawed at her shoulders, trying to take off her slip. She tightened her hold on him and stopped feeding. Throwing her head back in pleasure as the young man’s blood filled every part of her. She pushed him up against the bars of his cage with a new strength and straddled his body letting him run his hands over her breasts.

His blood dripped from her mouth adding new spots of red to her white slip. Wyldfyre lost control and let him enter her as he groaned for her to take more from him. She bit his neck again and drew in his blood as he bucked under her. She fed on him until they were both replete. The young man gasped as she bit him for a third time wanting to feel the release she craved and as it came she tore into his neck and he died screaming out in pleasure.

“Oh well done!” someone clapped from behind her. Wyldfyre looked up from the dead Nords body, her eyes flashing with a savagery that made even Manval step back a pace. Blood dripped from her mouth and chin and she licked at it with her tongue. She shook her head, confused. Manval stood over her beaming, proud of his new queen. Wyldfyre looked back down at the young man she had just killed. No! She scrambled back, away from him.

“My dear!” Manval exclaimed in delight “You have proven me right! I knew you would be fit to be my Queen!” He dragged her up and faced her.

“NO!” Wyldfyre cried in horror. What have I done? Manval kissed her and then licked the blood off her chin, oblivious to Wyldfyre’s distress.

“Oh he did taste good. Still, there was no need to have sex with him as well. Save that for me my dear” he said conversationally to her, while inside, Wyldfyre was screaming. No..no..no!

“Come come! We have to introduce you to the family.” He steered her out of the room, Wyldfyre throwing a last glance at the young man she had just destroyed.

*****​

​

Wyldfyre was surprised at how accepting the brood was to her status as their queen. She hardly had to do anything for herself, with a small group of young vampires always willing to please her and their master. She found she could freely wander the halls of the ruins but was not allowed to go outside or down to the dungeons. Wyldfyre had attempted to slip down there a couple of times to find Farkas. She was always politely but firmly turned away by the large vampire that guarded the entrance. The Orc constantly watched her as well and Wyldfyre tried to stay out of his sights. Manval treated her like she was a precious gem, giving her young female humans to feed on.

Even though Wyldfyre was horrified when she fed on them, she continued to do so, so she could build up her strength. She tried not to hurt them and only took as little as she needed. She managed to convince Manval that she was dealing with her vampirism and was completely loyal to him. There was an inner battle going on inside her as she struggled every minute of the day to stop the dragon souls inside her compelling her into losing her humanity completely and taking another innocent life.

Day time was the worst time for her when she and Manval would retire to the bedroom and he expected her to sate his carnal appetites before they both fell into the vampires’ slumber. Wyldfyre had to pretend she was as aroused as he was to keep up her appearance of the loyal subject. Manval was much older and much stronger and she would not let him force her, so she did it willingly. After, she would lay the darkness, silently crying and plotting her revenge. She decided she needed to find Farkas and set him free if she was to ever be freed from this place herself. She worked on the guard, offering him shy, seductive glances at first then approaching him more regularly to speak with him in soft whispers. She was careful to do this when they were alone in the room, as the Orc was still suspiciously watching her.

The guard was starting to respond to Wyldfyre in the way she wanted and she started planting ideas into his head about her fears of a challenge to the leadership of the brood. Lord Manval may have sired some of the vampires in the brood but a lot of them were strangers and wanderers, looking for a place to rest during the day. There was no fierce loyalty among those vampires. She had noticed a lot of them, male and female, giving her coveted looks at times and she knew if Manval was ever defeated she would be the prize for the victor. Wyldfyre told the guard that Manval was weakening, that he didn’t show it to his brood, but she had seen him in their bedroom. She was growing tired of him and needed someone stronger to sate her appetites. The guard listened on with keen interest.

One night Lord Manval announced he was leaving for a few days and Wyldfyre barely had time to think before he swept out of the ruins with five of his own vampires, including the Orc. She saw the opportunity and took it. She lured the guard away from his post, into a secluded room and seduced him. When he was lying on the floor, sated and exhausted, he fell into the dead sleep of the vampire. Wyldfyre took out the link of keys he carried and moved quickly down through the entrance of the dungeon to find her love. Farkas lay in his cage and at first Wyldfyre was afraid that he was dead. She unlocked the cage with the keys she had stolen from the guard and fell to her knees, shaking him.

“Farkas!” she cried. His eyes snapped open and he sat up and she threw her arms around him. He smelt odd to her, strange and unsettling. Farkas embraced her back, but then she felt him stiffen. He sniffed her and drew her away, looking into her eyes that were now glowing a sinister red.

“NO!” he cried. Wyldfyre’s eyes filled with tears.

“I’m so sorry” she cried “I couldn’t stop it”. He looked at her in horror, torn between his disgust at what she now was, his utter remorse for letting her become what he despised the most, and his love for her. Wyldfyre sat back, ashamed at what she was, and felt her heart breaking at the look on Farkas’s face.

“It’s.. it’s going to be all right” Farkas struggled to say. He took her hand, surprised at how cold it was. Wyldfyre looked at him, tears streaming down her face.

“Is it?” she hissed “Is it? Because from where I am sitting it is NOT going to be all right. You hate me now!” Farkas blinked at her sudden anger. She tore her hand away from his and scrambled to her feet.

“Get dressed” she ordered him. Farkas rose and quickly dressed in his armour. Wyldfyre took a steal sword off a table and handed it to him. It was not his own sword but it would have to do.

“Follow me” she turned and headed out of the dungeons and along a corridor that lead to an unused section of the ruins. Wyldfyre had explored it extensively and had found an opening in the stone work where a person could squeeze out of.

“You first” Farkas said to her and Wyldfyre shook her head.

“I can’t” she said backing away from the opening. There was the beginnings of morning light shining through the opening and Wyldfyre was afraid of it. Farkas stood and went to her.

“I won’t leave here without you” he said to her, looking into her eyes. Wyldfyre searched his, and found love there. Her heart swelled and she leaned into him as he wrapped his arms around her.

“There is a way to cure you, you know” he said. Wyldfyre pulled away from him.

“What?” Farkas nodded.

“There is, but I don’t know if you are going to like it.” Wyldfyre gripped the front of his steel armour.

“Tell me!” she demanded. Farkas frowned at her manner. She had changed and he did not like it.

“You become a Were” he said simply. Wyldfyre stepped away from him, thinking that over.

“Like you?” she asked him. Farkas looked at little hurt at that.

“Yes, like me. Being a were is nowhere near as bad as being..” he indicated to her. Wild red hair, bloody silk slip and wild eyes ..”this” he concluded. Wyldfyre’s mind mulled that over, she struggled to keep sane thoughts in her head, feeling like she was losing herself.

“I’ve done things” she said fretfully “Terrible things”. Farkas embraced her again. Just then they heard someone calling out for her. Wyldfyre shoved Farkas hard, causing him to stumble.

“Go! Go!” she hissed at him.

“I’m not leaving you!” he hissed back at her. The caller was getting closer.

“Go get the others!” she said to him “Come back for me. Swear it!” She pushed him towards the opening. Afraid they would be discovered.

“Wyldfyre!” he cried.

“Please! I could not bear it if I lost you. GO!” Farkas growled in frustration and kissed Wyldfyre fiercely and then squeezed through the opening and was gone. Wyldfyre hurried out of the room and down the corridor and was met by the guard of the dungeons. He smiled when he saw her and swept her up in his arms and kissed her roughly.


“You, are amazing” he said to her. She secretly slipped the keys back into his front pocket then circled her arms around his neck smiling at him. Farkas, my love, hurry.

 

[Brewman]

Hurry Farkas!

 

[shadowkitty]

Hi everyone. I am glad you are all enjoying reading my fanfic. Just one small request. When you do read a chapter could you give me a lil' old rating? Just so I can see how many of you are still reading this. It gives me a lot of encouragement to keep writing for you guys, because, while I write for the pure enjoyment of it, this fanfic is really for you guys! So please give it a like, or a creative, funny..etc.. I'm not checking up on WHO is reading, just HOW MANY.
Thank you all so much.

 

[shadowkitty]

Ok so I am sick of writing (insert big booming voice here) "Adult content!" all the time, so just treat every chapter from now on like it's going to have something in it, even if it doesn't.

CHAPTER FORTY SIX: The End is just the Beginning


“Who did this?” Manval demanded, his eyes flashing with anger. It was two days later and Manval, having gone straight to Wyldfyre, had discovered a bite on her left hip. He shook her fiercely. “Who dared touch you?” Wyldfyre was frightened at his anger. His trip had not gone to plan and he had returned in a terrible mood. The discovery of the bite on her added fuel to his already burning rage. He shook her again, pressing her into the bed.

“You’re hurting me!” she protested. He released his grip on her shoulders and moved off her. He stood and pulled on a robe.

“I am waiting for an answer” he said not looking at her as he tied off the sash. Wyldfyre swallowed nervously and pulled the sheet around her naked body. She stood and went over to him, placing a hand on his chest.

“Please my Lord” she soothed him “It was not his fault, he got carried away when he had some of my blood..”

“HE?” Manval screeched. He grabbed her by the arms and backed her into a wall. He glared at her, his nostrils flaring.

“Who, was, it?”. Wyldfyre had felt the charade had gone on long enough. She had Manval where she wanted him.

“It was Konic, the guard” she said, bowing her head in the appearance of remorse. Manval swept from the room and Wyldfyre smiled. Her plan to unravel his rule was nearing its end. What Manval did not know was that just before he arrived back at the ruins, she and Konic had devised a plan to destroy the master, once and for all. Konic had enlisted the help of a few of the outsider vampires and they had laid a trap for Manval, in Konic’s room. Wyldfyre had promised herself to Konic if he succeeded, and he threw himself into the mutiny with vigour. His aspirations to become the new master of this brood and to take Wyldfyre as his own, fuelled his desire to end Manval’s long life.

She quickly threw a fresh slip over her head and made her way to Konic’s room. She entered the room to find Manval on his knees, two of the vampires holding him down. The other was a pile of ash on the floor. Wyldfyre barely gave it a glance. She was focused on the man who had tormented her for so long and had turned her into the monster that she was. Konic stood behind him with two swords crossed over Manval’s neck. He looked up at her and she smiled at him.

“My love?” Manval said to her “You did this?” Wyldfyre walked up to him and ran a sharp fingernail down his face, causing blood to appear. He looked at her in surprise.

“What did you expect?” she said to him. “After what you have done to me?”. Konic and the other vampires looked on with interest.

“But, my Queen. I gave you eternal life. We, love each other”. Wyldfyre shook her head.

“Delusional, even up until the very end. Goodbye. My Love” she nodded her head and Konic took Manval’s head off in one action. It, and the body crumbled to the floor in a pile of ash. Wyldfyre sighed. It is done. The other vampires whooped and laughed and swept out of the room while Konic threw the swords on the floor and swept Wyldfyre into his arms, swinging her around. She smiled as best she could and pretended to be as happy as the rest of them but she was still worried that Farkas had somehow come to harm on his way back to Whiterun. The selfish part of her knew she wanted Farkas alive so that he could come back with the Circle and rescue her. But the part of her who had let Farkas become her life, wanted him to simply be all right.

That night the vampires had a celebration, after slaughtering those that rebelled against the new rule. Piles of ash lay everywhere, including one that was formally the Orc. Wyldfyre stared at them sadly. Is this what I am to become? A pile of dust to be swept away and forgotten? Wyldfyre left and retired to her room, not wishing to be a part of the merriment. She lay on the bed thinking about Farkas when she heard the laughter that filtered up to her room change into screams and shouts. Something was happening. Wyldfyre’s heart leapt as she heard a growl. Farkas has come for me! She leapt from the bed and flew down the hall to find chaos in the main room.

Vampires were disappearing into ash everywhere as shaggy black werewolves tore out their throats.

Wyldfyre stood at the door peering into the carnage, searching for Farkas. A were loomed out of the shadows and she recognised him.

“Farkas!” she cried. He grinned a wolfy grin at her and returned to the fight. Wyldfyre saw another, silver haired wolf tear a vampire in two before and he stalked over to her. Wyldfyre back up, slightly afraid. The Were shimmered and changed and Kodlak himself stood in front of her.

“Do not be afraid, child” he soothed her. Wyldfyre cried out and was engulfed in his huge arms. Soon there was no vampire left standing and the Weres gathered around Wyldfyre and Kodlak as they made their way into the centre of the room. Farkas grasped the pole in the centre of the room and ripped it from its foundations, throwing it into a corner. The Were stepped back with the others. Wyldfyre turned to face them all as they stood there, panting from their exertions. Only Kodlak had turned back into his human form and Wyldfyre waited for him to speak.

“Before you is one of our own” he said in a strong clear voice “Sullied and tarnished with the disease of the vampire”. Wyldfyre felt a little put out when he worded it like that. Kodlak continued.

“But do we forsake her? Our daughter? Our shield sister?” He cried out. The Weres growled in what Wyldfyre gathered to be a negative. Tears ran down her face as she felt the love the circle had for her emanating from them.

“We do not abandon our family. And Wyldfyre is family” She sank to her knees as their growls grew louder and louder. Kodlak turned to Wyldfyre and lifted her chin.

“Child, do you accept the gift we give to you on this day?” Wyldfyre nodded her head and the Weres grew quiet.

“I do father” she answered him. Kodlak produced a massive old cup from a satchel he had stashed outside the ruins. He placed it on the floor in front of Wyldfyre. Farkas stepped forward and Kodlak took out a knife and slashed his wrist over the cup, letting the Were’s blood fill it.

“Farkas has chosen to be your forebear” Kodlak told her. “It is an honour for the chosen one as much as it is for the one who chose it.” Wyldfyre looked at Farkas with love and he stared back at her with yellow eyes. Kodlak placed a hand on her shoulder.

“Are you ready child?”

“Yes” she said, peeling off her shift.

“Then drink and greet the new day, as Lycan.” Wyldfyre took the cup in both hands and drank Farkas’s blood. It tasted odd to her in her vampiric state. As she finished she set the cup down and all four Werewolves howled, the noise ringing in Wyldfyre’s ears. Wyldfyre felt dizzy and suddenly, an intense pain like she had never felt before, shot through her body. She screamed and convulsed on the floor. The pain was terrifying as the Were blood coursed through her body, shifting the vampire in her so savagely she felt like she was being torn apart.

“Farkas! Vilkas!” she heard Kodlak yell “Help her! Hold her down!” She felt human hands on her as she writhed and screamed.

“What’s happening to her?” Farkas shouted over the noise “Why is she reacting this way?”

“It must be the vampire blood and her dragon blood” Kodlak shook his head, worried. “I did not think it would be this bad.” He knelt down beside Wyldfyre and spoke to her.

“Wyldfyre, fight it, fight the vampire off” She screamed again as a fresh bout of pain shot through her.

“Wyldfyre!” Farkas shouted. Kodlak held her down and Farkas was then at her side, she stared into his eyes and he took her hand.

“Look at me” he chanted to her “Look at me” Wyldfyre focused on his face as her vision faded and then suddenly became more clearer than it had ever been. Farkas let go of her hand and ordered the others to stand back. Wyldfyre lay on the stone floor and felt muscles and bones breaking and shifting inside her. She cried out as her back broke and lengthened and fused back together and her hands grew and claws broke out of her fingertips.

“Why is this happening so slowly?” Farkas shouted over her screams. Wyldfyre thrashed on the floor as one by one her bones and muscles stretched and moved into their new place. The pain grew as her skull cracked and her jaw elongated and great fangs grew out from her gums. Black hair grew out of her body everywhere and her hair was replaced by a slightly darker redish brown mane. Wyldfyre hefted herself up and stood on two shaky paws and as the pain receded she stretched to her full height. She towered over Kodlak who beamed at her proudly. Wyldfyre looked around at the others and saw Aela and Skjor had changed back into their human form. They were still all naked but this did not register in Wyldfyre’s beast mind.

“A pretty Were if ever I saw one” Aela commented. “She kept her red hair”. Wyldfyre was surprised. Aela had spoken but her lips had not moved. Farkas came into view and she looked down at him. My mate she recognised him. Farkas smiled at her widely and nodded.

“That’s right” he said inside her head “How do you feel?” Wyldfyre blinked, fascinated by her new superb vision.

“I feel...I feel like running!” she answered him. She felt the need to run and chase the wind. The others chuckled inside her head.

“She’s fine” said Vilkas. Wyldfyre found it so strange to have them all inside her head, talking to her like normal people do.

“I’m not a vampire anymore?”. Kodlak shook his head.

“The disease was vanquished when you drank of the blood, daughter. You are cured of that sickness”

“My mate” Farkas stood before her “I know you want to run. To hunt. But it is daylight outside and we can not run just yet. Do you understand?” Wyldfyre tipped her head to the side and eyed Farkas with yellow eyes.

“I understand” she answered him. Farkas nodded.

“We will stay here for the day and travel home in the night. While we are here we need to find our things, especially the fragment of Wuuthrad.” Wyldfyre blinked at him again. She turned and looked at the others.

“Do I have to change back just yet?” she asked Skjor. He smiled at her and shook his head. Wyldfyre looked at Kodlak “Will it hurt like it did just now?” Kodlak shook his head.

“A little, but not as much as that. Yours was a particularly savage transition and for that I am sorry.”

“Why?”

“If I had of known..I may not have..” he cut it short shaking his head. He then directed the others to search the ruins for Wyldfyre and Farkas’s belongings. Wyldfyre took great delight in charging around the fortress in her new form, amazed at how quick and agile she could move. She found it a little difficult squeezing her bulk through some of the doorways and had to pass by smaller ones. She and Farkas finally came upon their things down in the room just off the dungeon. Wyldfyre wanted to change back into her human form but was slightly confused and embarrassed.

“My Mate?”

“Yes?”

“How do I change back?” she asked him. Farkas grinned at her and she swiped playfully at him, nearly sending him through the wall. She was surprised again at her own strength.

“Ok! OK!” he held up his hands “Listen. Focus on you, not on who you are now but who you were. How you look, how you sound, the way you talk, walk, your body, your curves. Focus on you.” He tried to explain. Wyldfyre, in her beast form, struggled a little to understand what he was trying to explain but she did it anyway.
She felt her body shake and convulse and the pain shot through her but not as intense as her first transition. Farkas stood there and watched as she transformed back into the woman that he loved. She blinked up at him and he saw her green eyes that had melted his heart the very first time he met her. Looking closer they were now ringed by yellow.


“There’s my girl” he sighed as he enclosed her into his arms. They stood there, breathing each other in, lost in the love that they had for one another.

 

[Irishman]

Kitty wishes she put an [18+] Tag on her FanFic

 

[shadowkitty]

While I don't really care who reads it (I have no scruples about tarnishing young minds) I WAS getting sick of writing "Adult Content" every time... lol. So I thought I'd just say to heck with it, it's ALL bad.. lol!

 

[mattizcool]

Loving the story so far.

 

[Brewman]

While I don't really care who reads it (I have no scruples about tarnishing young minds) I WAS getting sick of writing "Adult Content" every time... lol. So I thought I'd just say to heck with it, it's ALL bad.. lol!

Good luck, my old mind has more tarnish than the Statue of Liberty! Great save BTW!

 

[Brewman]

Thanks Darlin