The Dark Brotherhood: A Listener's Tale, The tale of what it takes to become the merciless Listener of the Dark Options

[allshallfade]

This is a fanfiction that I started over a year ago as of last month, and it is something that I am still working on today. It's basically the storyline of the Dark Brotherhood, told from the point of view of a cold-hearted woman who enjoys nothing more then to kill. I know that the plot is not original, but I feel that the character's thoughts and emotions, along with her interaction with other character's, sets it apart from the blandness of the plot. Anyways, I know it's long, but please, just bare with me!

If you read and review, I can't thank you enough- it really means the world to me. I hope you enjoy!

Chapter One: The Old Woman and the Cottage

I killed the old woman. I don’t know what made me do it; I still can’t understand it to this day. I suppose that this is where my tale starts; where my life gets interesting. Oh boy, does it get interesting. And I don’t generally mean that in a good way. You’ll see. I had been hunting down up North, by the Nordic-fashioned city of Bruma, when I felt a presence nearby. I guess you could call it a sixth sense. I crouched down, bow in hand, and slowly crept over a small hill. When I reached the top, I saw a little cottage nestled in the mountains, with a patch of flat land serving as a single person farm. An old woman was there, working in the farm, raking down new rows for what looked like fresh potato plants.

How could I know then that this house would be the location of so much pain and misery in my future? Looking back, I wished that I had simply turned around and never glanced back. However, my instinctual curiosity, useful in so many aspects of my life, was my downfall here. I sat to watch the woman, mystified, as I hadn’t seen a human, elf, or beast race for nearly a week. I had become a rather solitary being, making my living off of the land, sleeping where I felt it was safe enough, whether it be cave or slab of rock.

Squinting against the setting sun, I saw the woman’s graying hair and wrinkling face, her movements obviously displaying the aching and grinding of her old bones. After a moment of her work, she straightened, shielding her eyes from the sun with a callused hand. She must have decided that it was enough for the day, as she collected her supplies and headed toward her thatched-roof cottage in the slow, shuffling, achy pace of the elderly.

I don’t know what came over me at that moment, but I suddenly had the overwhelming desire to kill the woman, to drive my dagger into her flesh. I felt a sudden…rage at her, such inexplicable anger that I needed to act upon. I’m not sure if my fury was against her, or against the world. But at that moment, all the feeling I had in me was focused on her. I have had such urges before, to strike, to kill, but always in public, surrounded by many. My impulses had always been controlled by necessity. Now, however, I was in the middle of nowhere. I guess that’s the reason I couldn’t stop myself.

And before I knew what was happening, everything around me became silent. Time seemed to slow as my senses were heightened. Her breathing was a slow, rhythmic rasping in my ears, and an eternity seemed to take place in the dull thudding of two of her footsteps. I started to feel faint as I tried to control the desire to stop the noise of her footsteps, to eternally end the sound of her breath. I was fighting a loosing battle. After what seemed an eternity, but was in reality were seconds, I had put my bow on my back and was reaching for my dagger.

The sound of my dagger sliding out of its sheath was intoxicating; it made my lust for the kill even stronger. I started to creep toward her, my worn leather boots padded against the ground as I silently trod upon leaves and twigs. As I grew closer to the woman, my pace increased, until I was nearly sprinting at her on bent legs. My heartbeat was like a war drum, pounding out a fast steady beat, making my head felt like it was going to explode any second. It was overwhelming; I had to end it. When I was within yards of the old woman, I stood straight, getting into a full-out sprint at her.

She didn’t hear me until I plunged my dagger into her back. With a choking gasp, she spun about to face me, her eyes meeting mine. I saw them fill with a fleeting look of surprise, before quickly turning to one of intense pain and fear. However, her pain did not last long, as I leaned behind her and yanked my dagger out of her back, and slitting her throat in one smooth motion.

She crumbled to the floor on her very own doorstep, breathed her last gasping, gurgling breath, and became eternally still. I stood over the dead body for a moment, panting slightly. Once my heart rate had started to slow, and my senses seemed to return to normal, the reality of what I had just done crashed into me, physically staggering me.

My eyes widened, and I slumped against the side of the cottage. I still held my dagger, glistening in the fading light. It was smeared with a line of blood, dripping noiselessly to the ground, joining the pool of red liquid forming steadily at my feet. Staring at her motionless body, I felt a strong mix of emotions. First, I felt disgust in myself, but I also felt an almost disturbing sense of pride, and…fulfillment. My desire for blood had been filled; the desire I had held back for so long. I had killed livestock and beast for food, but this was different. This was…murder. However, as quickly as it had come, the disgust started to ebb away, and a small smile formed on my face as I stood up straight again.

At that moment, I felt a prickling sensation on the back of my neck; a feeling that someone was watching me, that someone had seen what I had done. I whipped around, dagger at the ready, but saw nothing. The sun was nearly lost behind the mountains to the West, but there was still enough light for me to see the landscape around me in detail. I shuffled in full circle, but could pick out no one in the surrounding forest. Even so, I still could not loose the feeling of being watched, so I kept my dagger and bow at easy access.

Casting one last suspicious look into the immediate area, I turned back toward the body. As I looked at her corpse again, I felt another overwhelming feeling of disgust, but this time not at what I had done- now at the fact that I didn’t feel any remorse for my actions; no pity for the defenseless old woman. I wanted to- I genuinely wanted to feel bad, to feel guilty. But I didn’t. I…couldn’t. Sighing, pushing the unsettling thoughts out of my mind, I squatted down and started to search her for valuables.

I found about 4 gold, which was quite a sum to me at that time, and a letter to some gift-giving service listing the locations of all of her kids. I pocketed the list, not really sure why. I also found the key to her cottage. I looked back up at the sky, finding that the sun had almost disappeared, so I decided to spend the night in her house. I dragged her body into the tall grass surrounding the home before slipping the key into the lock and opening the cottage door.

Upon entering, I found that the old woman (Perennia Draconis, according to the letter) had a dog when it started barking incessantly, but it seemed as ancient as she had been. I tossed it some old boar meat from my pack, and he eagerly started gnawing at it, completely forgetting my presence. I quickly scanned the interior, looking for valuables, but not finding much. According to the sign over the mantle, the place was called “Applewatch”.

My stomach growled, so I looked into my pack and pulled out some venison and various vegetables I had stored for my trip. I cooked them in the fire place, petting the content dog while stoking the fire. Looking back, I didn’t even feel uneasy spending such a pleasant time in the home of the woman I had just mercilessly slain. My thoughts at the time were only of the food I was cooking. After my meal, I felt a wave of fatigue sweep over me, so I stripped out of my leather greaves, boots and cuirass and pulled on a long coarse shirt to sleep in. I slipped my dagger under my pillow, placed my quiver and bow on the bedside table, and slid into the warm recesses of the covers. It was extremely comfortable, compared to my recent sleeping arrangements, which had consisted of rock slabs and leaf piles. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow.

I was woken not four hours later when my blood seemed to turn to ice, the air still and silent. In one fluid movement I had sat bolt upright and pulled my dagger out from under my pillow, holding it menacingly out into the dark room. I sat there, panting for second, trying to peer through the complete darkness, when a deep, sinister voice spoke to my right.

“You sleep rather soundly for murderer. That’s good. You’ll need a clear conscience for what I’m about to propose.”

I leapt to the left, pulling the covers off the bed as I swung my dagger wildly into midair, attempting to defend myself. I pressed my back against the wall, letting my eyes adjust to the darkness. Across the bed I saw a man, clothed and hooded in the darkest black. His deep brown eyes were studying, assessing every move I made, always calculating. He seemed to be almost…amused at my reaction. His lips were curled up ever so slightly at the corners, and his intense eyes were gleaming with laughter.

“Who-who are you?” I demanded, mentally assessing my options. Listen to him talk, charge and attack, or run. Talking seemed to be the most favorable of my options; he looked quite skilled with a blade, and his athletic form could be seen even through his robes and the way he moved; he could probably outrun me. Besides, I wanted to see what he had to say. He was…intriguing.

“I am Lucien Lachance, a speaker for the Dark Brotherhood. And you, you are a killer. A taker of life. A harvester of souls. Your work, your deathcraft, pleases the Night Mother. And so, I come to you with an offer. An opportunity to join our rather…unique family.”

I had no idea what to say. How did he know I had murdered the woman? And how had he known so quickly? Could he have been the presence I sensed after her death? But how had he known I was going to kill her? And what- My internal bombarding of questions was cut off as he continued, looking at me in a way that seemed to convey that he knew exactly what my thoughts were.

“So, I have your rapt attention. Splendid. Now listen closely. On the Green Road to the North of Bravil lies the Inn of Ill Omen. There you will find a man named Rufio. He is an old man, his body frail, and he sleeps his days away. You could kill him before he woke, if you so chose. In whatever way you choose, kill him, and your initiation into the Dark Brotherhood will be complete. Do this, and the next time you sleep in a location I deem secure, I will reveal myself once more, bearing the love of your new family.”

I thought about his last statement, and some of the possible implications one could interpret from it, and was suddenly extremely aware of the shortness of my shirt, and how much my legs were showing. I colored slightly, embarrassed at my own thoughts, which were most likely completely unfounded. He continued on, seemingly undeterred by my silence.

“Please accept this token from the Dark Brotherhood. It is a virgin blade, and thirsts for blood. May it serve you well, as does your silence,” he said with his slight smile, handing me a gold-decorated dagger.

‘The Blade of Woe’ was inscribed on its gold and black hilt. I stood digesting this

for a moment, before I looked him in the eye and said questioningly:

“The Dark Brotherhood?”

“Have you not heard of the Dark Brotherhood? Of the remorseless guild of paid assassins and homicidal cutthroats? Join us, and you’ll find the Dark Brotherhood to be all that, and so much more. We are, more than anything, a union of like-minded individuals. We kill for profit, for enjoyment, and for the glory of the Dread Father Sithis. We are a family, with bonds forged in blood… and death.”

Deep in the recesses of my mind I found a distant memory; of my early teen years, working at the linen shop with my aunt. The daily routine involved scrubbing fabric clean in the back room, while gossiping with the fellow workers. I remember my aunt leaning conspiratively over her scrub board, eyes wide and her voice fearful:

“They say that when you murder someone, the Dark Brotherhood visits you in your sleep. It’s how they recruit new members.”

The understanding must have shown on my face, for he nodded briskly and said:

“Now, I bid you farewell. I do hope we’ll meet again soon.” And with one last lingering look, in which he took in my scantly dressed form with a slightly raised eyebrow and an amused gleam in his eye, Lucien Lachance vanished. Literally. The door to the cottage opened and closed, seemingly on its own accord, and a cold draft sweeping into the room. The sounds of night filled the room, embracing me.

I stood for a moment, perhaps more, rigid in astonishment. I realized now that I had often heard of the Dark Brotherhood, but these were always tales of evil and heartless murder. And I had just been asked to join them. To ‘join their family’, as Lachance had put it. Did that make me evil? Was I evil? I thought of the body lying cold outside in the tall grass, and still didn’t feel a pang of shame or guilt. I realized that I was just that; a cold, heartless murderer. Maybe not evil, but I was a cold-blooded murderer. I wasn’t ready to admit myself as evil. Not yet.

When Lachance had spoken of them, he made the Brotherhood sound like they were…close. A family. A loving family of cold-blooded assassins. The idea seemed so preposterous that I almost laughed out loud. My first inclination was to forget the whole prospect- to never even go near the Inn of Ill Omen. Best to disregard the whole thing. But as I lowered myself back onto the bed, picking up the comforter and pulling it over my body, I couldn’t stop replaying Lucien’s words in my thoughts.

For my whole life I had felt almost overpowering urges to kill, to murder. But I had always resisted, always controlled myself. At sometimes I had barely contained myself, but I had never given in. Until now. Since my desires did not seem to be shared by any I knew, I had always considered myself a freak of nature, a one of a kind outcast. I felt that my only option was to just conform to fit in with society. But now it seemed that there were others like me; those who embraced their gifts for murder. And these people wanted to accept me as one of their own.

And what about this ‘Speaker’, this Lucien Lachance? The way he spoke of murder- he seemed to feel the same way that I had felt about killing the old woman. It was…intoxicating. I had not even accepted his offer, yet he was already treating me as family. No one had ever treated me like that, not since my aunt died when I was young. Part of me wanted to see this “Lucien Lachance” again…in the short time I had met him he had made an impression.

Maybe I would just go and check out the Inn, to see what was there. Just to see where the man lived, I thought to myself. The rest of the night continued in the same fashion, with internal arguments and self-objections. Finally, after a sleepless and thought filled night, I set out at dawn for the Inn, fill of determination and purpose. I was going to kill that man. I was going to join the Dark Brotherhood.

[allshallfade]

Chapter Ten: WhoDunIt Part III

The next morning I awoke early, intending to investigate the house without interruption. I got dressed carefully again, making sure that the hidden knives and Mithril armor did not show through the fabric of my dress, and securely locked the chest at the foot of my bed. I glanced over at Dovesi. She was still sleeping soundly, snoring lightly.

I crept out of the room, careful to close the door silently, and started down the stairs.

“Good morning deary!”

I nearly fell down the last couple of steps in alarm. I stumbled, caught my footing, and found myself face to face with Matilde Petit, who was full of early morning cheer.

“Sorry, I startled you again, didn’t I?” she said apologetically.

“Oh no, I’m fine,” I said, smiling. Inside I was fuming- it was five in the morning, I didn’t expect anyone to be up this early! What in the name of Sithis was the woman doing?!

“Well I’ve been working on breakfast.” Oh.

“I expect everyone will be hungry, and we all have a long day of searching ahead I expect…” she said.

“Yes, I suppose we do.”

There was a silence, and she looked at me expectantly. I gritted my teeth, and forcefully said “Do you need any help?”

“You’re so thoughtful! Actually I do, if you would be so kind.”

I spent the next hour listening to the woman babble about her days as a young nobleman’s daughter- the trials and tribulations of the rich. When Neville came down at 6:30, and distracted her attention, I was so excited that I didn’t feel the customary strong urge to slay him where he stood.

Over the next hour the others started to come down, and we started eating at around 8. Breakfast was delicious, but the talk was less free than it had been last night. I think the ‘contest’ had become more real for the guests this morning, and they were tense about it. We all knew that as soon as breakfast was over, the hunt would begin...

And so it did. It was awkward, as plates began to empty, eyes started to dart around them room when they thought no one was looking (I, of course, was looking), already searching. When the last fork was laid down (Nels‘) we cleared up in almost complete silence.

Matilde was the first to leave, stammering about needing to get something from her room. Neville followed, with an equally pathetic excuse. Nels looked at the three of us standing before him- Primo, Dovesi and myself, and laughed heartily.

“Well, I’m not going to lie. I’m off to look for treasure!” he said, and then strode off in the direction of the basement, chortling to himself.

I exchanged looks with Primo and Dovesi, and we all smiled sheepishly. Dovesi and Primo exchanged a glance, and both looked away, blushing.

“Well, I’m going to…. Oh you know!” I said, smiling. I turned and walked off towards the second floor. As I reached the staircase I turned and gave Primo a wink behind Dovesi‘s back, and he returned with a grateful look, understanding that I had already talked to Dovesi.

The day was filled with observing people rather amusedly as they searched for treasure in the most preposterous places you could ever think of.

One particular incident that comes to mind is when I sat in the shadows of the foyer, watching Nels attempt to climb the bookcase shelves and reach the space between the top and the ceiling. He knocked several things over (including himself a few times) before resorting to a fit of rage and kicking the bottom shelf, causing nearly the whole thing to collapse.

And one particular thing I noticed was how Dovesi and Primo were rarely out of sight of each other, and almost always in close conversation. They really had become attached to each other, and in a extremely short amount of time.

There were no breaks throughout the day- lunch was a solitary effort. When you were hungry, you ate what you could whip up. The only to not eat alone were, of course, Primo and Dovesi.

The other guests were starting to notice their alliance, with varying reactions. Matilde and Neville, who did not seem to approve of Dovesi, therefore did not agree with the pairing. Nels on the other had seemed quite please that the girl was happy. I, of course, seeing the possibilities that this supplied me with as a ‘carrier of chaos’, was overjoyed that they had become so close so quickly.

I did not speak much to the guests throughout the day, only once with each to find their reactions about Dovesi and Primo. Otherwise, I avoided contact with them as much as possible. The house was large enough that it had many dark corners in which I could take refuge, just to listen and observe.

The thrill of the hunt was starting to get to me- it wasn’t like the normal stalking in the shadows… it was a game of sociology. I was making my victims like me.. I was getting to know them; I had never done that before- known a contract before I killed them. It added a… personal element to it. I thought of killing each of the guests in turn, and a thrill ran through my spine, into my very bones.

I lay in wait in the shadows, anticipating the right moment to kill Primo- but the occasion did not arise where I felt Dovesi would be blamed, and I free from suspicion. The sun set, and darkness fell. The night was my time. As the skies grew darker, there was within my soul an arousal; the Dread Father was with me, I could feel it. I would kill soon…

We all gathered for dinner, the seating arrangement varying only slightly from last night. Dovesi was sitting with Primo on her left and Nels on her right. Next to Nels was Matilde, who looked terrified to be that close to the big, rambunctious man. Neville was next to her, and I next to Neville. Talk was subdued, and we ate in almost complete silence. No one had found anything, and they were starting to wonder how far they would have to go to find the gold.

As we all finished and started to bade each other good-night, I remained behind to clean up. Matilde was collecting plates but I told her go upstairs and that I would take care of it. Everyone but Dovesi and Primo had left, who were still sitting at the table talking.

“Thanks sweetie- I am rather tired. It’s been a long day,” said the old woman. She left the room and walked slowly up the stairs.

“I’ll help you, Addy,” said Dovesi, and she turned to Primo. “Go read that book that you saw downstairs- you said you wanted to look through it, and now the house is quiet. We don’t need help here, the women can handle it,” she said, smiling at me.

“Are you sure?” said Primo, looking anxious.

“Of course, it’s fine. Enjoy your book.” He nodded vaguely before heading downstairs.

Dovesi and I cleared the table silently for awhile, washing dishes and packaging up remaining food. We were placing plates back into a cabinet when I decided to try to set things in motion.

“So, things seem to be going pretty well between you two,” I said, giving her a sideways smile.

“Mmm, they are…” she replied. “He’s a wonderful man, very insightful, and sensitive…” she trailed off.

“Yes?” I prompted.

“Well, I just want to spend some alone time with him, and he with I. You know, where we don’t have to worry about anyone walking in on us…” she trailed off again, and I nodded knowingly. And suddenly, a plan clicked into place.

I took on a thoughtful face, tilted my head slightly, slow smile spreading as if in dawning comprehension.

“What is it?” asked Dovesi.

“Hmmm…” I pretended to be thinking again.

“Oh out with it, tell me!” she exclaimed, rolling her eyes and laughing.

“Well… you guys could go in our room…I’ll stay in Matilde’s room- she’s probably asleep already…” I raised my eyebrows, and her smiled broadened.

“Oh, would you?” she exclaimed. But then her face fell. “I mean, it is rather forward… but I like it!” I nodded encouragingly, and her smile returned.

“All right then, I'll wait for him in our room upstairs- there’s something I want to do…” she grinned.

“I’ll tell him, if you want… get him wondering what’s going on… you know, build the anticipation,” I said, and she laughed.

“Oh would you? Thank you, thank you!” she smiled, and gave me a quick hug before walking off upstairs, a jump in her step.

Smiling softly to myself, thinking of what lay ahead, I methodically and calmly placed the last of the dishes away, and took a deep breath. The thrill was already rising within me, my bloodlust was rising.

I started down the stairs toward Primo. As I walked I thought of Dovesi- it seemed to me that she was very interested in Primo’s wealth; I believed she was more keen on finding rich than finding love. Oh well, I thought. I would make sure she never found either…

I located Primo perched in an extravagant lounge chair, book held loftily in hand. Even when he was reading he held his nose high and his posture perfect, reeking in superiority.

“Primo?” He looked up.

“Yes? Do you need me for something?”

I put on the act of looking about, checking for onlookers (of course there wasn’t) and then returned my gaze to him.

“Well… Dovesi wanted me to inform you that she is waiting upstairs for you, in her room.” He looked confused, so I added a wink. Comprehension dawned on his face, along with a look of almost… fear. One could assume he had little experience in these matters.

“Oh… yes, well…” he looked back at me, seemingly looking for advice. I smiled kindly, while inside churning with rage at this pathetic form before me.

“Why don’t you collect yourself, and then head up there?” I said, patting him on the shoulder. He nodded vaguely, his mind already somewhere else.

I started to walk toward the stairs, careful to keep my pace steady. However, as soon as I was out of sight of Primo, I dashed up the two flights of stairs, quietly and lithe as possible. I reached the top, stood for a moment, fixed my hair, and walked into the Third Floor hallways of bedrooms.

I passed Dovesi’s room slowly. She was sitting on the bed, tracing her finger along the fine fabric of the comforter, when she spotted me. She gave a questioning look, and I smiled slightly and nodded.

I passed the room, but did not walk into Matilde’s. Instead, I turned, making sure no one else was in the hallway, before casting an invisibility spell. I walked carefully back down the hallway towards the stairs, wary not to make a sound. I opened and closed the door, sliding into the shadows of the landing. So far, my plan had been executed perfectly. And now for the final execution…

Several moments later I heard the footsteps of Primo climbing the first set of stairs. My heart began racing, my blood flowing quickly. I already felt an overwhelming sense of pride and fulfillment washing through my very bones, flowing through each and every inch of me. The anticipation for the kill was near unbearable, but I waited, knowing Sithis was with me.

Primo turned the corner. Time seemed to slow as he mounted the stairs, an eager yet nervous look in his eye. His steps reverberated and echoed throughout my body, each longer than the last. His breath was a gasping noise in my head, his heartbeat a steady drum- I wanted to end it all, I had to end it! It was becoming excruciating, this waiting, when he was so close… I could but reach forward and slice my dagger through his fair skin, red staining its purity… but I knew I had to wait.

Primo finally reached the landing where I stood, and reached to open the door. He twisted the handle, started to pull the door open…and I struck.

With one hand I grabbed his, clutched to the door, and whipped it open, dodging around it. Before he could utter a gasp of astonishment, I grabbed his throat. He started choking, eyes bulging and his stare bewildered and horrified.

I felt a thrill rise up through my entire body. My breath short and my heart flying, I used my spare hand and twisted his neck abruptly and fiercely. There was a satisfying crack, and I felt the high of a kill flow through my soul. I dropped his body and shoved it down the stairs, watching as it become limp before landing at the bottom, twisting and crunching in odd, unnatural angles.

This part of my plan I had went over and over in my mind, deciding how best to use it to my advantage. I didn’t want to arouse suspicion too early- one death could be passed off as accidental, and I wanted to use that opportunity to my advantage. But even if the death was pronounced an accident, I had still dropped the stone into the pond. The ripples and undercurrents of distrust and fear would start to brew, and from that they could only escalate.

And so I had decided to use the opportunity to my advantage, to absolve myself from any and all suspicion. If I was seen going into Matilde’s room before the accident, and only leaving once someone else discovered his body, no one could possibly suspect me. And it would put all the distrust in Dovesi.

I had only seconds to revel in the kill before I sprinted silently down into Matilde’s room, my invisibility spell wearing off. She was still asleep, the racket had not awoken her. But then I heard Dovesi moving in the next room. Her room was closest to the stairs, and I had counted on the others not hearing the sound Primo’s demise would have made, all but her, who was probably listening intently for his arrival…

I heard her walking in the hallway, she was at the door to the stairs, opening it…

And as I had thought, she did not call out to ask about the ruckus, in fear that someone would become respond and would come to investigate. Her’s and Primo’s meeting was supposed to be secret, after all…

I listened as the door opened, and I waited as she looked down the stairs…

Primo’s body had landed in an unnatural angle, his knee twisted outward at an impossible angle and his neck showed the obvious signs of being broken. His head was nearly twisted all the way around- he had landed on his stomach, but his face was almost directly pointed at the ceiling. His bloodshot eyes still held the look of surprise, and they seemed to be staring into your own...

I knew she had seen the body when there came a blood curling scream; a scream filled of intenseof terror and grief. It filled my heart with a malicious glee. The real party had just begun.