Hi! Tomed Ceht here, presenting to you my first-ever Skyrim fic. I decided that there weren't nearly enough Aela fanfictions out there, so I decided to take a crack at it! Or fem/fem Aela fics. So enjoy my lovely readers, this is gonna be a long one. Hopefully you'll stick through the whole ride. No need to be harsh or gentle with reviews, this isn't my first picnic. Say whats on your mind. I'll either love it or not give a fuck (if its rude, of course)

This story will constantly be going in between First person and Third person. Just because I felt like it. I've never written anything in first person, so don't be an ass if you see something that may be considered third.

And of course, I own nothing. I've got a car, an Xbox, my laptop and a few games. I would happily trade them for ownership of this franchise.

It was incredibly quiet.

The rustling of the tall grass. The shaking of the leaves in the few trees that dotted the landscape. The crowing of the hawks that soared above.

All of it was silent to me.

I crouched lower behind the giant boulder before me. This was the moment I had been waiting for for days. Several sleepless nights tracking these beasts was about to unfold. I was excited, to say the least. My blood was pumping furiously and my hands were trembling. The thrill of the hunt was what I lived for, it was my life. It was all I knew.

They didn't call me 'the Huntress' for nothing.

I carefully slipped around the boulder. The low morning light was just enough for me to see my prey in the distance, and its crisp air helped sooth my almost-feverish skin. The elk I had been pursuing were many yards away, gathered around a small drinking hole. The largest, my soon-to-be prize, was in the middle of the tiny group. This bull wasn't any prey, however. Normal elk did nothing to catch my attention. This bull was a large, proud beast. So large that he could quite possibly begin his own species and possibly the largest of his kind I had ever seen.

So he was in my crosshairs.

In all honesty, I could have taken him down the moment I had laid eyes on him. But, there was no thrill in blind killing. Hunting was an art I had been perfecting my entire life and the pursuit of the prey, without detection, held exhilaration beyond compare. So, what huntress would I be to deny myself such satisfaction?

I licked my lips eagerly, just imagining how his flesh would taste. I grabbed my bow tightly, wiping the crimson hair from my face. This was it. With a skilled hand, I grabbed an arrow from my quiver and knocked into place. The string came back carefully and groaned at the movement. With one eye closed, I took aim. Precise aim takes perfect patience, so I took my time while simultaneously studying the wind. It was slightly breezy today, and that would make all the difference. I adjusted to the calculations accordingly.

Just as I was about to fire, a tremendous roar shook the Earth. Startled, my grip slipped and the arrow flew. However, the elk were already on the run and it buried itself within the ground.

"Shit!" I grumbled, slamming my body flat against the boulder. Whatever had made that roar was no Saber Cat. There was another, louder and… above? I looked up questioningly. What I saw made my heart skip a beat.

A dragon…

Black as the night, the winged beast flew straight over me with an unnatural speed. Even as I watched its tail slink past, I stayed perfectly still, hoping and praying that it would not fly around for a second look. Another roar loosed from it, distant and weak. Minutes passed. Then there was another, barely audible in the far distance. Minutes more crawled by and still I kept myself ridged against the cold stone.

Finally, I mustered the courage to peel myself off the boulder, tentatively stepping into the open plain. I peeked over the rock in the direction it had been heading and saw nothing but mountains and the few clouds that swirled around them. I quickly spun, scanning the skies. Empty.

I fell to my knees painfully, letting out the breath I didn't know I was holding. A shaky hand found its way to the back of my neck, caressing it tenderly. What just happened? Was that really a dragon? I looked up again. My stomach let out a hefty growl and another found its way to my throat. Perhaps it was only my hunger playing tricks on me.

No, that seemed far too real.

Ever since I was a child, I had been told the legends and stories of the great dragons. Of the destruction and fear they had instilled into the lives of the Nords who lived to witness them. They were legend, nothing more. I shook my head roughly, letting my hand drop limply by my side. Dragons have been extinct for Eras, if they ever did truly exist. So what did I see just now?

I had seen many strange and unnatural things in my life. Daedric Princes being summoned to their worshippers. The tree-like beings know as Spriggans whom guarded the forests. The cunning Wispmothers, controlling their young to protect themselves. The half woman, half bird Hagravens that lurked in the caves of Skyrim, waiting for unwilling prey. Vampires prowling the night, searching for their next meal. Even I was a child of the moon and sister to the wolf.

But somehow, the concept of dragons being real was too farfetched for me to comprehend.

My stomach let out another painful rumble, directing my attention back to the matter at hand. My lunch. I pivoted on my feet, looking in the direction of where the elk once stood. The area was clear, as I had expected. With a hiss I stood, sliding my bow carefully into its holster and taking off at a full sprint. After days of tracking down the elk, I made a quick decision. Prize be damned, I was not going to come out empty handed. I was not going to go hungry today. Not again.

A wild pleasure coursed through me as I called upon my beast blood, willing the spirit of the wolf within me to come forth. My teeth began to elongate and fur sprouted quickly across my body. I felt the first effects of the transformation and pumped my arms harder. My jaw snapped and began to grow. My vision began to shift to a more bluish tint.

I ran faster.

Bones began to snap and shift to accommodate my new form. Some melded together and some grew longer, sinew and tendons crackling as they, too, adjusted. My ears twitched as they found a new size. With a great ease, I began to run on all fours without breaking stride. I had had my wolf form for so long that transforming while running had become a second nature. There was no need to stop.

The metamorphosis completed with a long, bushy tail and sharp claws and ended as quickly as it had begun. I parted my muzzle slightly, filling my lungs with the sweet morning air. The elk could not have gotten too far ahead and with the great loping strides of a werewolf now on my side; catching up to them would be no problem. There were few beasts in the land that could possibly hope to outrun me.

I sniffed a few times. Their scent flowed through my powerful nose, and I knew I was getting close. I could smell the fear. The anxiety. It made my hunger even more powerful.

My paws slammed into the soft Earth harder as I quickened my pace.

I came over a hill with blinding speed, spotting my meal. The bull was running away from the bulk of the herd, which made him an easier target. My vision danced as a feral urge pulsed within my gut. I allowed a roar to ripple from my throat, alerting them. There was a chorus of alarmed whinnies and grunts from them. The cows made a sharp left, abandoning the bull without a second thought. I bared my teeth in glee; this hunt could not have been going better in my favor now.

The now lone bull sprinted faster, but I was closing in on him. There was no escape for him now. He let out a terrified wail, and I leapt.

My claws sunk deep into his hind haunches, ripping him down into a tumble with him clutched to my chest. He bleated horrifically as we rolled to a stop. In panic, the elk kicked at me in an attempt to free himself. A sadistic snarl escaped me as I tore at his legs, shredding them.

His cries in pain became silent to me as I stared down upon him. I licked my lips, ridding my muzzle of the saliva that was dripping freely from them. The primal need for fresh, raw meat was overwhelming. There was no need to wait, and I was raised properly.

Mother always said not to play with your food.

I took one last look at his horrified face, his black beady eyes gleaming with fear. A ravenous growl escaped me and I sunk my fangs deep into his neck. Hot, sticky blood gushed into my mouth and I bit harder, savoring the intoxicating taste of his life liquid. There was one last gurgle and squirm, then he lay still. I allowed myself to drink a little more before leaning back on my haunches. I licked the delectable liquid from my fangs before staring at his plump belly. My own stomach growled once more.

I ripped into his flesh madly; finally able to satisfy what felt to be an age-old hunger.

The club swung at her with an alarming speed.

She rolled to the side, barely missing the heavy wood. The giant wielding the club snarled in frustration, raising it above his head once more. Aela saw this and drew her dagger swiftly, closing the short distance between them. Her steel plunged deep into its belly, eliciting a pained grunt from the monster. His face twisted with rage, preparing the heavy weapon for another attack. The club fell once more and she ducked around him with ease.

The huntress swiped his left calf deeply, sending him down on one knee. The giant let out another roar, swinging his club blindly behind him.

She wasn't so lucky to dodge it this time.

Aela crashed painfully into the stone fence surrounding the small farm, knocking the wind out of her. She slid to the cold ground on her side, unable to move her stunned and breathless body.

"Aela!" a voice called to her in horror, distorted and muffled. She numbly rolled onto her back in her stupor, ignoring the faint cry. Her vision was blurry and she blinked furiously to clear the haze. But, no matter how hard she tried, the sparks before her would not fade. Nor could she breathe. Only after a few meticulous attempts to breathe, Aela began to panic, furiously attempting to draw in a breath of precious oxygen. A strangled gasp escaped her finally, filling her lungs with the sweet afternoon air. However, the small victory was short lived.

The woman quickly rolled to her side once more, heaving as crimson liquid spilled from her lips. She propped herself on one elbow, swaying as the coughing fit racked her supple form. Her vision had slightly returned to her, but the huntress did not need to have her entire ability to be unnerved by the amount of blood she blurrily saw before her.

Well, that's not good…

Aela wiped her lips with the back of a shaky hand, slowly becoming aware of the horrible pain within her torso. Everything ached terribly. She slid back down to her side with a muffled groan, rolling to her back once more as the initial shock began to slip away and extent of her injuries made themselves known. That damn giant had done some serious damage. Definitely a few broken ribs. And a punctured lung? Perhaps. That would explain the blood she was coughing up. Or was she vomiting? Aela closed her eyes slowly. The excruciating pain was making it difficult to think clearly. She let out a ragged sigh; maybe it was best just to rest. After all, she was tired… so tired…

"Aela!" the voice from earlier repeated again. It was so familiar, so distant…

"Aela! By Talos, Aela, get up!" her eyes shot open as she was shaken lightly, shooting indescribable pain through her damaged body. Farkas was crouched beside her, worry etched deep into his scarred face. He turned his head sharply over his shoulder. "Ria, get a healer!" He whipped his head back to the wounded woman before him. Ria yelled something back to him, but Aela couldn't make it out. She squinted as her vision danced, trying to keep the man's face in view. Her eyelids felt heavy and she allowed them to droop.

"Dammit Aela! Stay with me, you know better than that. Stay awake or Sovengaurd take you!" Farkas growled, giving her shoulders a firm squeeze. The huntress's eyes cracked back open with a moan. She didn't want to stay awake anymore… but he was right. If she slept with injuries this serious, there was a great possibility she would not wake again. She watched his hazy torso turn again. "Ria! By the Gods! Stop standing there and get a damned healer!"

"Let me tend to her," an unfamiliar voice said. Her brows furrowed as another blurred figure crouched beside her. It removed a gauntlet and Farkas moved aside, allowing the stranger to aid his fallen Shield-Sister. Aela gasped in surprise as a bright orange light erupted from their palm beside her head. She panicked once more in her delirious state, thinking the person was simply going to kill her.

But, the light was soothing. Gentle waves of heat caressed torso and coaxed her broken body to mend. She felt the broken bones slowly and painlessly fit back into their proper places and seal themselves back together. Aela let out another moan and shut her eyes once again. The feeling was… intoxicating.

The stranger slowly moved to her chest, and then to the side of her head, the light carefully balanced in their palm. The warmth soothed her into reason, her thoughts becoming clear once again. Aela breathed deeply, savoring the pain-free swell of her lungs. The healing sensation vanished and a warm, gentle hand cupped her cheek.

"Are you alright?" A concerned voice quietly met her ears. It was female. Aela opened her eyes once more to find her sight had fully returned to her.

And a lovely sight she saw, indeed.

Knelt before her was a Nord woman, looking barely over twenty. Her face was smooth with flawless, pale skin and a slightly pointed chin. Her jaw line was sharp and sculpted beautifully, accenting her in all the right ways. Even her nose was pointed and a modest size, fitting her face perfectly. And her eyes. Oh, her eyes. A chilling, yet indescribably beautiful shade of green, one purer than any Aela had ever seen. Complementing her Divines' sculpted face were long locks of pitch-black hair that cascaded gorgeously past her shoulders. It was so long that as she knelt beside Aela, the tips brushed against the huntress's slightly exposed stomach. What intrigued her most was that, unlike most Nords, she bore no war-paint. Her own silver eyes locked into the concerned green ones of this Goddess.

For once in her life, Aela was completely speechless.

She nodded, unable to trust her voice at the moment. The woman let out a sigh in relief and removed her hand, propping her elbow onto her knee. "You're quite lucky I was able to heal you, a few minutes more and you may have been with the Gods." She stated simply, a hint of worry subtly lingering in her soft voice. "Is there anything I missed?"

"No, I'm fine," Aela finally found her voice, which was husky from disuse, and sat up. She looked down as she ran a hand through her crimson hair, finding it was caked with blood. A frown crossed her face. With the pains from her torso, she had not even noticed a head injury. Dropping her hand, she looked back to the stranger. "You have my thanks." The huntress looked at her more carefully, noticing she was wearing a simple set of iron armor that hung off of her slightly and was dented terribly. It was obviously not crafted for her frame and from the looks of it, she had probably scavenged it off the corpse of a bandit. Aela scanned her a bit longer, then her eyes widened suddenly in surprise as she remembered the fight. "The giant!"

Farkas let out a small chuckle. "This lass took care of him for us. Shot him right in the neck after he struck you. Damn fine with a bow if you ask me, she was standing from the road!" He praised her, elbowing the woman lightly. Her cheeks turned a light pink at the attention.

Aela looked past them to the giant, who was lying on his back only a few feet away. It was motionless, two arrows protruding from its thick neck. The huntress then looked to the road, which was a good fifty or so feet from where they sat. She turned her gaze back to the woman.

"That must have been an impressive shot. Perhaps you would like to join the Companions? We are always looking for warriors with skill such as yours," she said with a smile, hoping the mysterious woman would not decline the offer. She returned the smile.

"That I may. Though, I must deliver a message to the Jarl," the woman stood, extending a hand to her. Aela grasped it firmly, shocked when she yanked her to her feet with a surprising strength. The black haired woman rolled her shoulders, her armor clanking lightly as it scraped together. "If all goes well, maybe I'll see you in Jorrvaskr," she said with a knowing smile while slipping her gauntlet back on.

'At least she's not ignorant. The Companions' glory does not reach the ears of most Nords anymore.' Aela mused to herself. Many travelers who came through Whiterun as of late had been completely ignorant of the Companions. The huntress had shrugged it off, however. She was not in the order for glory or honor, nor just because her female lineage had deep ties with them. No, she was with them for the hunt and for the gift that had been bestowed upon her. She allowed herself a wolfish grin.

The woman took a step back, preparing to leave. "I wish you well in your battles. Fight well," She clasped her right fist over her heart and gave them both a small bow, then turned to leave. The Shield-Siblings watched her make her way out of the small farm.

"Wait a moment," Aela called after her, taking a step forward. She stopped and turned, attention back on Aela. "Who are you?" she bit her lip, the question coming out far more childish than she would have liked. She could see a faint smile grace the distant woman's lips.

"Selene," she called back, silently turning and continuing up the road towards the city. The huntress simply watched her go, until Farkas made himself known once more.

"Common Aela, we should find Ria and let her know you're ok," he commented in his deep, scratchy voice. She nodded to him and they slowly made their way back into the bowels of the city.

Aela slumped lower into her chair. The old wood creaked in protest at the shift, but she paid it no mind. She was sitting in her usual spot in the grand mead hall of Jorrvaskr, watching her Shield-Siblings bustle about, drink, and gossip. Most of them were crouched behind their mugs of mead, talking of the black haired stranger that had delivered a horrifying message to the Jarl not even an hour before.

A dragon had attacked Helgen, and the entire town was completely destroyed.

And as the rumor stated, the dragon had been as black as the abyss. Her silver eyes lingered to her tankard on the table before grasping it firmly and taking a hefty swig. The news was extremely unsettling. That meant that what she had seen that very morning truly was a dragon. And that she had seen it before it had turned the unsuspecting town into a smoking pile of rubble. She shook her head. There was no way of knowing that it was going to attack Helgen, nor was there any way she could have warned anyone. People would have thought she was crazy if she had found a way to deliver some kind of message.

She gripped the tankard tightly as she thought of the truly strange day. First a dragon, then nearly getting killed by a giant.

Then the stranger showed up. Selene.

The fact that, with all of her hunting and combat experience, she had nearly been killed by a damn giant was embarrassing. Extremely embarrassing. But then she was saved by that captivating woman. She had put quite a bit of mead into herself already, but her foggy thoughts kept returning to the Nord.

It wasn't like her.

Now, it wasn't the fact that she was a woman. Aela admired strength and prowess where it was obviously present, male or female. And same-sex couples were not frowned upon in Skyrim in the least bit. It was just that she seemed to have… something about her. Something more. The huntress couldn't put her finger on it, but it intrigued her. She wouldn't call it a crush either, just a small fascination. She sighed into her cup as she took another drink. It didn't really matter. She was likely never going to see Selene again. She had heard a few whispers that the woman had left Whiterun as quickly as she had arrived.

Her eyes lazily drifted upwards, to the opposite side of the mead hall, towards a large clamor. There Athis, the only Dark Elf within the order, and Njada Stonearm had begun yet another drunken brawl. A disgusted frown tugged at her lips and she furrowed her brow. The pair was constantly fighting over trivial things and Aela was beginning to think she should just kill one of them. The scraps were entertaining at first, but they quickly became an every day activity for the two. Thus annoying as hell to the huntress. The crimson haired woman snorted as she heard the cheers and confident bets of her fellow Companions. She glanced around the large 'U' shaped table to find it empty. She snorted again, everyone was watching the fools fight. Even Skjor, whom she respected highly as a near father figure and one of the most level-headed people within the order, was propped lazily against a support beam with a mug of mead and cheering them on.

She went to take another drink, but as the cold metal touched her lips, she was met with only a few droplets of bitter liquid. With a sigh, she stood and swayed a little. At least it was a good excuse to get away from the ruckus. Aela regained her balance quickly, dragging her feet down the stairs and into the living quarters. She shut the door, which was already open, quietly behind her. Not that it made a difference; the booming voices of her Shield-Siblings permeated the thick wooden walls with ease. Finding peace would likely mean leaving Jorrvaskr for a while until everyone passed out.

The huntress shuffled down the corridor slowly, taking her sweet ass time reaching her quarters. There were several tables lining the hallway covered in meats, cheeses, vegetables, and most importantly, mead. Aela stopped abruptly in front of one of the tables, carefully setting down her tankard on the edge and grabbing a few bottles of the untouched alcohol. An unsure frown worked its way onto her face. She was holding three bottles, but there were so many more on the table. She was, by most standards, a little tipsy. Should she go ahead and get plastered? Three bottles wouldn't cover that. What to do…

Fuck it.

She grabbed an arm load of the mead and a jug of Alto wine for good measure. With a satisfied smirk, she made her way to her private bedchambers.