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 Thirteen: The After Party

My four day return journey to the Sanctuary was one in a suspended state of elation- almost like a high, a drug. I relived each and every moment of the events in Summitmist Manor, each recounted murder sending a fresh chill through my blood. The weather was foul, with pouring rain and raging winds, yet my mood remained positive.

I had left the manor as it had been at the moment of Nels’ death- I of course brought my clothes and supplies home, but decided to leave my murder weapons with their victims. The five guests still lay where I last saw them- Neville in his room, Primo beneath the sheet, Nels at the table, Dovesi in the foyer with the glass knife in her back, and finally… Matilde still hanging from the front door, held up by the dagger impaled through her skull into the wood. The thought that when someone finally entered the house, however long from now, the first thing that would greet them would be the decaying corpse of an old woman hanging from the door, her eyes glassy and pained, her expression still a bit surprised… I fervently wished I could be there for that moment.

But I had left the house when night had fallen, careful not to be spotted as I exited through the front door (obviously not the one with Matilde sticking to it). Unfortunately there seemed to be some sort of gathering in the wine fields; all the workers were gathered around a bonfire or sorts, laughing and drinking and dancing. This meant that my chances of hopping on a horse and riding off unnoticed were very small, and I didn’t want to take the risk…especially if other things were discovered. The dagger currently on a sheath on my waist was a near exact replica of the one in Matilde’s head. Probably not the most logical decision to leave it there, but I just couldn’t bring myself to ruin such a beautiful scene.

And so I entered the Sanctuary four days later just as the sun was setting, a heavy fog descending among throughout the streets of Cheydinhaal. After descending dwon the well ladder, I walked into the hall and immediately spotted Teinaava seated at his favorite chair, book open in his lap. He looked up and smiled widely as I met his gaze, his eyes glowing.

“You’ve returned! And all in one piece… which I presume cannot be said of your fellow guests?”

I gave a wicked grin, and he returned it with an equally malicious smile.

“Ah, well I’m sure Ocheeva would like to speak with you, and your reward awaits. When you are done there, however, there is something I wish to discuss with you. Have you eaten yet?”

“No, I haven’t,” I replied.

“Excellent- share a meal with me?”

“Of course, dear brother,” I smiled warmly.

He nodded and gave me a last, lingering gaze, before turning and heading to the doors at the other end of the room.

I knew what (or rather, whom) he wished to speak with me about- Antoinetta Marie. I had not forgotten the reveal of our feud, and I knew that Teinaava wouldn’t either. Telaendril and Gogron may have passed it off with my simple explanation, but Teinaava knew better. For first time not looking forward to time spent with Teinaava, I knocked upon the thick doors leading into Ocheeva’s quarters.

“Yes, come in.”

I opened the door and strode into her room; she was seated at her table, eating a dinner of mutton and bread. Her mouth was rimmed in the blood of the meat, and she licked her lips clean before standing and smiling at me.

“Dear sister! Were you successful in your ah…goals?” she asked carefully. But her eyes gave it away- she already knew I had been. As Lucien Lachance had once said, the Dark Brotherhood knew a great many things…

I nodded, and she walked forward and put her hands on my shoulders in a congratulatory way.

“Well done! Not only did you kill the five guests, you acted as an agent of terror and grief. You have earned your reward and bonus, Assassin,” she said.

“The act was reward enough, my friend,” I said sincerely. She smiled in understanding, but continued on.

“Regardless, I lay upon you now the Night Mother's Blessing. May she walk with you always, and guide your hand as you act in accordance with the Five Tenets…”
Ocheeva raised her hands above her shoulders, palms facing me, and closed her eyes, her hands starting to glow softly blue as slowly brought them down to her waist. I felt a chill run down within me from head to toe, and I too closed my eyes as a glittering blue light passed over me.

When I opened my eyes again, I could immediately feel the change within myself. The room seemed more clear, as though I could see in the dark. I felt that my hands were steadier, as if I had perfect control. And not just my hands; I felt more in tune with my entire body, from my eyes right down to my toes. I raised my arms up to look at my hands, marveling at the precise way I could manipulate each muscle. Ocheeva smiled at the wonderment in my eyes, and stepped back as I walked forward a bit. My steps were silent, my movement lithe and nimble. I felt strange, different; yet in a good way. This… this was bloody brilliant!

“You have my most sincerest thanks, dear sister,” I said fervently.

Her smile widened at my enthusiasm.

“It is indeed a most honorable gift, my dear sister. One you should be very proud to have received. I’m afraid I have some pressing matters that I must attend to, but before I go, there is something I would wish to ask you.” Ocheeva narrowed her eyes in an almost analytical manner, before continuing.

“I hear talk of a feud between you and our sister, Antoin-” I interrupting her, sighing deeply, exasperatedly. She stopped speaking, widening her eyes questioningly.

“Teinaava mentioned this to you?” I said. My tone was sharp; I was surprised at the feeling of resentment I had towards my most dear brother. I had wanted to keep this between Antoinetta and I, but she had drawn in some of the rest of the family… and Teinaava was now only helping to spread it. I looked up, and found that Ocheeva was watching me closely.

“Do not be angered with him, please my sister- he only spoke to me out of concern for your wellbeing. He cares for you, and he cares for this Sanctuary. He just does not wish anything bad to happen. All the great guilds, the Great Houses- they all fell from the inside out…”

I let out a deep breath and was silent for a moment. She was right, he was only trying to help.

“I apologize- you are right, of course. And don’t worry, I’ve already made plans to speak with Teinaava about this matter, once we are done here.”

“Then we both have family members awaiting our presence, and should not keep
them waiting any longer.”

We exchanged our farewells and both left the room- she heading to the right, I the left. I found Teinaava at the round table, placing two overflowing plates of food down. They were both piled high with breads, cheese, and meats. I smiled and rolled my eyes in amusement at him, and sat in the chair Teinaava offered. We both ate ravenously, accompanied an only slightly awkward silence. Once our stomachs began to fill, we both leaned back and held our stomachs appreciatively. After a moment, Teinaava turned to me.

“I think you know what I want to talk about, dear sister Adrienne,” he started.

“That twat, Antoinetta Marie,” I spat out.

He grinned at my rather brutal response, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Well I‘ll start off by saying that her little outburst before you left was a surprise. I never would have guessed that you two were having problems,” he said slowly.

“She’s been careful about making revealing her feelings to anyone but me.”

“Yes… none of us, not Telaendril, Gogron nor Ocheeva had even a suspicion of this feud. We always thought our family was one without rifts… except for M’raaj Dar, but he hates everyone.”

We both smiled a bit, but my thoughts were elsewhere. I took a moment before responding.

“There really isn’t much for me to say about this, except that she is a dark sister held in high regard, and therefore has no reason to be envious of me. She’s handling the situation in a completely irrational manner, and judging from this I don’t regret our lack of affection for each other. She has made her choice, I have accepted it, and that’s all I will say of the matter.”

Teinaava pivoted himself quickly in the chair to face me, his eyes focused on my face.

“That is true. But there is one last thing I would like to know…“ I nodded slowly. He continued.

“Now please, tell me the truth. How long has this been going on? When was the first time she seemed… hostile towards you?”

I felt my eyes widen. He was watching me closely, and his lips upturned slightly at the corners at my reaction, as though he had been expecting it. He seemed to know how this point had often been on my mind as well- Antoinetta seemed to have hated me from the moment we met. But that made no sense- if her hatred was based on jealousy, logic would follow that she could not hate me until I had beaten her in something. And what had a I beaten her at within seconds of our introduction? Once I had been promoted past her, I could understand her animosity. But this had been a problem long before then.

Yet at this time in my life, I was unwilling to admit it.

“Truthfully, I cannot exactly recall when her distaste for me started.”

Teinaava looked disappointed, but he did not pursue the matter after that. We lapsed into more comfortable talk, and I was starting to describe my time at Summitmist Manor a little over an hour later when Gogron Gro-Bolmog and Telaendril entered the room.

Gogron was carrying a heavy crate, but when he saw me he practically threw it into Telaendril’s arms and started toward me. He charged over and swept me up in a bone-crushing hug. Gasping for breath, I peered through the small opening I had between the crook of his shoulder and his thick neck to see Telaendril shaking her head in exasperation, balancing the huge crate. He released me just as my face was starting to turn blue, and clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder.

“You’re back! Not that I was worried, I’m sure you could have handled plenty more! But still, you were missed,” he boomed.

Telaendril set the crate down carefully on the bench, and I heard it’s contents
clinking together. She walked over, smiling.

“Although I don’t offer quite as an enthusiastic welcome, I am still glad to see you, dear sister.”

We all laughed lightly, and Gogron and Telaendril sat down across Teinaava and I at the round table. Gogron immediately demanded that I rehash each and every gory detail of my contract at Summitmist Manor, leaving nothing out. I was just starting my tale again when Telaendril suddenly let out an exclamation. We all turned to look at her in bewilderment, but she just smiled and stood up quickly.

“I have an idea…” she said, a hint of mischief in her voice. We watched as she went to the wooden crate on the bench. Gogron seemed to understand then, and gave an appreciative chuckle. Teinaava and I exchanged baffled looks.

Telaendril drew a slender dagger from within the folds of a skirt she was wearing, and shoved it under the lid of the crate, methodically prying around the edges. She lifted the lid off and stuck her hands in, amongst the sounds of clinking glass. And quite suddenly I understood, a split second before her hand reappeared with the bottles.

“For a celebration!” she exclaimed, triumphantly holding up the bottles of ale.

I was never much of a drinker- it just seemed pathetic when done alone, and I’d never really had anyone to drink with. Not to say I’ve never had alcohol, but I couldn’t say whether or not I’d ever been completely drunk before.

Gogron gave a whoop of pleasure and immediately grabbed a bottle of ale for each hand. Telaendril passed each I and Teinaava a bottle, and kept one for herself. We gathered round the table, snapping the stoppers out of our the ale. Teinaava raised his bottle.

“To Adrienne, our Sanctuary’s dark gift!” he exclaimed, and then took a deep drink of the ale.

I felt my heart glow with pride as my family members raised their glasses up above their shoulders in my honor, the glowing torches reflecting off the smooth surface of the bottle, reflecting across to the opposite wall. The bottles clinked together above the table, and we all leaned back and drank deeply. I was the first to surface, and a moment later Telaendril pulled her glass away from her lips as well. We both looked at Teinaava and Gogron, who were still chugging away at the ale. I noticed they kept glancing at each other out of the corner of their eyes. Telaendril seemed to notice this too, and we
exchanged an amused eye roll. Men.

After another moment of slurping and swallowing noises later, Gogron thrust his bottle fiercely down on the table and threw his head back for a huge gasp of victory. Although Gorgon’s win was rather predictable, I have to give Teinaava credit- he was only seconds behind. Gogron uncorked his second bottle of ale and walked back to get the crate. He dropped it down in the center of the table, his face a huge, slobbery grin. He passed Teinaava a bottle, and then looked at Telaendril’s and my nearly full bottles with narrowed eyes. He shook his head woefully, as though disappointed in our efforts, and leaned back in his chair.

“Now we are ready to hear your story!”

“So you did kill all of them, without their suspicion?” asked Telaendril, awe in her voice.

I nodded, grinning a bit sheepishly.

“Excellent!” roared Gogron. “Now get on with it, I want the gory details!”

I started to tell my tale, but I was just beginning a describing my meeting with Primo when I was interrupted… again.

“Ho there!” Gogron had just finished his second ale, and was leaning forward in his chair, eyes gleaming intensely.

“I propose that we live this up… with a game!”

“What sort of game?” Teinaava asked, narrowing his eyes warily.

“A drinking game, of course!”

“I, for one, truly just want to hear Adrienne’s story-” Telaendril started.

“Yes, yes of course, I meant we can make it part of her story!” Gogron boomed excitedly.

We all stared at him, faces blank. He swiveled his head to look at all of us, and then rolled his eyes in an over exaggerated manner as a response to our silence.

“Each time Adrienne tells us about a kill, we must all drink a whole bottle of ale! And the loser must drink another!”

“Now Gogron-”

“I’m in!” exclaimed Teinaava, interrupted Telaendril.

I looked at him in surprise, and he shrugged.

“Ocheeva’s gone to a secret meeting, so she probably won’t be back till tomorrow…” he explained, grinning.

“I’m in too,” I said, and Teinaava’s smile widened.

Telaendril looked around at us, her wide eyes half disgusted, half amused. We all stared at her expectantly, and after a moment she let out a huge sigh- but she was smiling.

“Oh all right!”

We all gave a whoop of success and finished what remained in our bottles while I talked, and we all made sure to have a full bottle ready as my tale once again reached the first death. And as I told the story of Primo’s death, we all glanced around at each other expectantly, uncorking bottles, fingers gripping the bottle tightly in anticipation…

“…and as he hit the bottom of the stairs, I heard his neck snap, and his head faced up towards the ceiling,” I finished dramatically.

There was a moment of silence, and then all at once we threw our heads back and started to drink, chugging wildly. I quickly fell behind, and was only a quarter of the way done with my bottle when Gogron finished his. Teinaava finished soon after, and then a little later Telaendril. When I finally set my bottle down, what felt like ages later, there was once again a moment of silence.

…But this time it was broken by laughter. Loud, uproarious, unrestrained laughter. At first I was irritated, but their laughter was infectious and I couldn’t help but join in. We were all laughing a bit louder, and at a bit higher pitch than normal. I would have felt bad for anyone who was sober that had to listen to us.

“You…are the worst… drinker.. I have ever seen!” Gogron managed to choke out, amidst fits of uncontrollable sniggers.

I glared at him, but in my slightly intoxicated state it came out as a sort of half-winking, smirking face, causing everyone to laugh harder.

“You’ve only had two!” exclaimed Teinaava, hissing in enjoyment.

“Yesh…” Oh my, I really was a terrible drinker- I was slurring already! Internally, I fiercely told myself to keep it together; I took a moment to focus, and then held up the empty bottle. “But the bottles are big!”

“And now you have to drink another!” Gogron said, and he handed me another full bottle, grinning devilishly.

I groaned, but that only made the carbonation churn unpleasantly about my stomach, so I refrained from doing so again. I took the bottle and drank it as quickly as I could, and was pleased that I finished a bit faster than last time.

By that time, my family members had calmed down, and actually seemed eager to hear the rest of my story. I continued, but with less detail then last time- and perhaps a slightly more basic vocabulary. I nearly beat Telaendril in the second round, but still had to drink another two ales. The room was starting to become a bit wobbly, and my story-telling skills were probably not up to par, but they insisted I continue.

I actually came in second for the drinking round after the kill of Dovesi, and was quite happy with myself. But the death of Matilde followed closely after, and I lost in that round once again.

Now having drank a grand total of eight bottles, I was pretty unable to form a coherent sentence. But I suppose my basic survival instincts were still functioning, as they realized I needed a bit more time if I didn’t want to finish last in the final drinking round.

“And then I walkzed up one schtep… and then I walkzed up the schecond schtep… and the third! That wasch a tricksy one, let me tell you…” And so on.

I continued like this for at least a few minutes, and my family members remained enraptured heedless of the obvious over embellishment. When I finally started to describe my poisoning of Nels, Gogron passed around the bottles. Everyone had difficulty uncorking them (Teinaava ended savagely ripping his open with his teeth), but by the time I told of Nels’ death we were all ready. We raised our bottles in unison, and then brought them to our mouths clumsily to begin the race.

I was chugging for all I was worth, willing myself not to throw up, praying to Sithis that I would not loose. And I my prayers were heeded- Telaendril started to cough when I was about half way done, and in the time it took her to recover I finished my bottle, slamming it down on the table in victory. This actually resulted in it bouncing a bit and rolling off to shatter on the floor, but we paid no attention. We made Telaendril drink her final bottle, and then joined together at an odd drunken cheer. I was mostly cheering because the contest was over.

And then quite suddenly, Gogron burst into tears.

We were all stunned, even in our various levels of intoxication, into silence. We watched as Gogron leaned over, his body wracking with huge sobs, and wrapped his arms around Telaendril. She seemed too surprised to move, but after a moment she cautiously reached her arm as far onto his back as she could go (which was not far, because of his considerable girth) and patted him gently.

“Poor… poor Nels!” he said.

If we were stunned before, it was nothing compared to this. Was Gogron, the Orc who murdered a five year old girl at her birthday party, feeling sorry for one of the victims of the Dark Brotherhood?

“He’s just-just-just like my baby rabbit!” he stuttered out.

I swear, I never knew a room of drunkards could become so quiet.

“Binky…oh poor, sweet Binky!” Gogron continued to sob.

“How in the name of Sithis does ‘Nels’ remind you of ‘Binky’?” asked Teinaava.

“How could it not?! Binky…Nels…” We all looked at him blankly. He tried again.

“Binky….Nels…Binky…Nels!” His face was so serious that it was comical.

And for some reason, this was uproariously funny, and next thing I knew we were all laughing again. Laughing because I had finished my contract and returned safetly; because Gogron thought ‘Nels’ and ‘Binky’ sounded alike; because Gogron had a pet rabbit named ‘Binky’ and was crying about it… but mostly because we were all incredibly drunk.

After a moment, Gogron started laughing as well. And his laughter had reached the squeaky obnoxious stage that everyone’s else’s had- except that it was so out of the ordinary to hear the normally deep voiced Orc squeak that we all laughed even harder.

And the rest of the night passed in a haze of more drinking, linked arm dancing and singing, several secrets confessed (although none would be remembered in the morning), and an obscene amount of drunken laughter.

……………………………….

“What in the name of Sithis is going on here?!”

My eyes snapped open. I look straight up into a chandelier, and as the light flooded in my head felt like it was going to explode… so I promptly shut my eyes. Ow.

I heard moans of pain and discomfort nearby, and slowly opened my eyes once again, squinting. I was sprawled out in the middle of the floor, amongst what looked like a battlefield of broken bottles. I painfully rotated my head a bit to see Telaendril at my
right; she was the source of the moans. She had tried to open her eyes too.

Keeping my eyes barely open, I looked around the rest of the room. Teinaava was lying across the bench to the rectangular table, while Gogron crumpled in a heap on top of the round table. I had a sudden flash of Gogron dancing on the table the nigh before…

“Everyone get up- right now!”

“Aaaarrghhh!” Four voices cried out in unison at the volume of Ocheeva’s shouts. There was no response, so we all turned to look at her. She was standing at the entrance to room with such a glare on her face that I swear Sithis himself would have cowered in fear. We all stood as quickly as we could manage, our heads pounding intensely.

“I am disgusted! I leave for one night and I return to find the Sanctuary in shambles! This is a disgrace! You call yourselves members of the Dark Brotherhood, but this…” She gestured around feverishly, hands quivering.

“All work and no play…” Teinaava chanted, still slightly sluggish, but then trailed off.

There was a silence, where Ocheeva just looked at him in revulsion, and we all waited for him to continue. He, however, was opening and closing his eyes repetitively, seeming to have totally lost his train of thought.

“Well? All work and no play what?” said Ocheeva finally, her tone threatening.

Another silence, where Teinaava looked like he was concentrating very hard. But suddenly, he let out a snort of indifference.

“ I don’t know what,” he slurred out. Ocheeva widened her eyes in fury while the rest of us started to laugh uproariously. But that didn’t last long when we realized how much it hurt our aching heads.

“You will clean this mess up, and if I find so much as a shard of glass on the floor when I get back…” She glared around at the group, and we all hung our heads. “Now Adrienne, I need to talk with you. Come with me,” she said sternly, and I gave my family members a nervous, confused look, which they returned with obvious pity, before following Ocheeva up the hallway.

Ocheeva was silent as we walked, and I could not see her expression; I expected it wasn’t cheery though. I wasn’t about to be the one to speak, first so we reached her room in what I felt to be quite a bit of angered tension.

You can only imagine how surprised I was when I turned from having shut the doors behind me and found Ocheeva to be smiling broadly, body shaking silently.

I opened and closed my eyes several times, but this was no trick of the light- Ocheeva was laughing. Hard.

“I’m sorry…” she managed to get out between silent giggles. She held a hand up, the other grasping her stomach. “Just… give me a minute…”

To say I was astonished was an understatement, but I waited for a moment until she could collect herself.

“Once again, I apologize dear sister,” she said, wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes.

“I thought you were… angry,” I said cautiously.

“No, no, quite the opposite actually. You should have seen the scene I walked into this morning- Gogron spread eagle on the table, Teinaava hanging off a bench, you and Telaendril on the floor, bottles everywhere… I had to leave the room for a moment to compose myself, before coming back to wake you all.”

I must have still had a confused look on my face, so she grinned and continued.

“I have been set to lead this Sanctuary, and so it is my duty to discipline those who… misbehave. I acted how I was expected to behave, in that situation.” She leaned in, and lowered her voice a bit. “But between you and me, dear sister, I wish I could have been there- I’m sure it was an interesting night.”

I thought of Gogron’s bunny, of the group singing together later on in the night laughed with her, Telaendril’s admission that she was madly in love with Gogron (although I think I was the only one who remembered that), and replied: “Indeed it was, dear sister.”

“I’m sure- although it would have been very amusing to see what Vicente’s reaction to all of this might have been.“

I realized that I had not seen Vicente since I had returned.

“Where is Vicente? I haven’t seen him since before I left.”

“He has been sent on a contract involving a target who shares his, ah, condition. He’s not expected back for a few days yet,” she replied. I nodded, and she began to speak again, her tone more official.

“All else aside, there is something very important that I must speak with you about. When you're ready, I have a most important contract. One that has been sanctioned
by the Black Hand itself.”

My eyes widened, and I felt my breath short in the my chest. The Black Hand? The leading organization of the Dark Brotherhood? This must be a very important person- and I had been their choice to take his life. This was a great honor. I nodded briefly, trying to conceal my excitement.

“Do you recall the name Adamus Phillida?” I shook my head. “The Imperial Legion pest?” I shrugged again, the name not ringing any bells. “In any case, it's time he joined Sithis in the Void.”

“What has he done to anger the Brotherhood?” I asked.

“Adamus Phillida has spent his entire career investigating the Dark Brotherhood, interrupting our contracts, killing our family members!” Ocheeva spat out, the distaste evident in her expression. “We’ve tried to eliminate him, of course, but failed on three separate occasions.” I raised my eyebrows at this- I had heard of failed contracts, of course- but trying to kill one man three times, and failing at each one? He must be very important indeed.

“Yes, he's a powerful man, and was surrounded by powerful associates. Now the Legion pig's years of service have come to an end. He has retired. Phillida must not be allowed such a victory! His destiny is... darker.” She gave a smug smile at this thought.
“And so it is time he joined Sithis in the Void… do you think you're up to the task?”

“It would be an honor. I accept.” And it truly was- if the Brotherhood had failed three times before in his murder, I don’t think they would have taken the choice on who to send the fourth time lightly.

“It is even more an honor than you realize,” she said softly. “The Black Hand has sanctioned the Rose of Sithis.”

I gave her a quizzical look, and she gestured towards the small table behind me. Sitting on it was an arrow, a bit longer than the sort I normally used, and colored in a dark red. It had a thick rounded point, and an intricately designed fletching. I turned and picked the arrow up carefully, looking at it closer. It was very balanced, light yet heavy. Ocheeva continued, smiling slightly as I inspected the arrow.

“It is a magic arrow specifically enchanted to kill its target. And in this case, the target is Phillida. As long as the arrow pierces Phillida‘s flesh, he will die. But it has it’s weakness- it cannot pierce armor! Shoot while Phillida is armored, and the Rose will be wasted.”

“This a powerful weapon,” I said quietly, holding it with a new sense of respect.

“I am confident that you will not let it‘s power be wasted.” There was a moment of silence in which I tried to come up with a suitable reply, but then she continued.

“Now Phillida resides in Leyawiin, in the City Watch barracks, an honored guest of the soldiers there. Travel to Leyawiin. Track Phillida. Learn his schedule. Observe when he removes that blasted Legion armor! And then, let fly the Rose of Sithis!” she exclaimed, a fire in her eyes.

“Kill Phillida in any way-” she went on.. “-Rose or not, and the contract is complete… but to receive a bonus, you must go beyond murder. You must send a message! Once Phillida is dead, take the very finger from his corpse, the one that bears an Imperial Legion signet ring! Deposit this finger in the desk of Phillida's successor, in his office in the Prison Barracks, in the Imperial City! Do this, and the bonus is yours!”

“I will not let you down, dear sister. Or the Black Hand.”

“I would not expect you too,” she said, nodding her head. “Now go- Adamus Phillida will find no rest in retirement. No, his soul will endure a kind of eternal suffering known only to those who have angered Sithis…”

……………………………….

I was ready to leave by evening- I had returned to the Living Quarters and aided Telaendril, Gogron and Teinaava to clean up the mess we had made… and together recovered from our rather intense hangovers. While doing so, I told them of my contract. Each had congratulated me heartily, and offered their advice.

“The Rose of Sithis! Such an honor! Just make sure your marksmanship is up to the task. If you miss the target, the enchantment will be wasted,” Telaendril had said, to which Teinaava added;

“And the Rose will only work if Phillida is unarmored- so, when would a soldier not wear his armor? I only take my armor off to sleep or swim…”

Gogron scoffed at them both, and gave his opinion.

“Don't get me wrong, that magic arrow sounds nice and all, but it seems to me like you don't even need to use it to get the bonus. As long as you cut off his finger and leave it in that desk, you'll get your extra goodies. Sounds to me like you can kill the old sod anyway you'd like. So what if he's wearing armor! You think that Imperial Legion scrap can stop a well-forged claymore? Not bloody likely!” And he had laughed heartily.

I had packed lightly for the rather long journey, anticipating the humid and rainy weather. I brought my best bow, a few throwing daggers, and the Blade of Woe- even though I did have a more powerful dagger, it had a certain sentimental value.

After eating a hasty dinner, I decided to leave and travel through the night- it was cool, the air was crisp and clear, and the moons shined down brilliantly, creating a myriad of shapes and shadows in the dark.

I climbed out of the well, locking it securely behind me, and turned towards the street. I could see no one out, but I had a feeling… just a sense, that someone was watching me. That someone was nearby. I started to walk cautiously towards the street, treading carefully on the long grass. A sound came from behind me and I turned about quickly, drawing my dagger in a quick motion.

Leaning nonchalantly against the wall of the Abandoned House, arms folded across her chest… was Antoinetta Marie.

When I saw her she pushed off the wall casually, taking a few steps forward.

“Fancy seeing you out here, my dear sister,” she said, spitting the last bit out.

“I’m just as surprised as you are,” I replied while slipping my dagger back into it‘s sheath, my tone even.

I found it very odd that she had known I was coming- I doubted it was a coincidence that I had run into her here. I wondered if she had been sitting out here all day, waiting for me to exit. But that wouldn’t make sense- how could she have known that I was going to be leaving soon? Teinaava had mentioned that he hadn’t seen her all day, so she couldn’t have overheard our conversations… unless she had been hiding in the shadows again, watching and listening…

“So, you’ve sent to assassinate Adamus Phillida?” she said, her voice mocking.

Well that answered my questions. I didn’t answer, but she already knew.

“Oh, finally Ocheeva has come to her senses! You'll be killed, just like the last three that have tried, and we'll finally be rid of you!” she exclaimed, her voice venomous and eyes dark.

I felt a rage awaken with in me, the fury coming in waves and tides- and I took a sudden, violent step towards her. Her eyes seemed to grow apprehensive, and I stepped forward again, enjoying her fear and alarm. She took a step back and found herself against the wall.

I stopped a few feet from her, my gaze full of hatred and fire. I truly wanted to kill her; right there and then, I wanted to stab her in the heart, to impale her with an arrow, to decapitate her with a slice of my sword… but I knew I couldn’t. My loyalty to the Brotherhood ran deeper than my hatred of Antoinetta.

And so after a few deep breaths, nearly shaking with anger, I started to turn and walk away.

“You know you wouldn’t be able to kill me if you tried. I don’t know what the Black Hand, what Lucien Lachance sees in you, but-”

I turned back so quickly that she faltered in her speech, and I drew in until my face was mere inches from hers. Her face once again grew fearful and she tried to lean back further, but the wall stopped her.

“You’re only so brave because you know the Tenets prevent me from killing you where you stand,” I said quickly, my voice dark and savage.

And I could tell that she knew I was speaking the complete and total truth, as her eyes grew even more frightened for a moment. But then they seemed to clear of the fear, and she stepped forward, forcing me to step back.

“Then why don’t you do it?” Her voice was like a honey, soaking over me, drawing you in with it‘s smooth eloquence. “No one is about, no one will know…just do it…”

And suddenly, quite out of my control, I felt my hand slowly moving towards the dagger at my waist. I was in an almost trancelike state, my vision clouded… I felt my fingers curling around the smooth, cool metal of the hilt of my dagger, felt myself starting to draw it from it’s sheath…

“That’s it, just take it now and paint it red with my blood…”

“No!” I exclaimed to myself.

My vision cleared suddenly as I drew myself out of her mind games, the half drawn dagger sliding back into the sheath. I was breathing hard, almost panting, and my heart was racing. I took a moment to collect myself, trying to ignore Antoinetta’s smug face. I was quite shaken up by how easily she had manipulated me, but I couldn’t let her know that.

“You’re not worth my time,“ I said darkly, and swiveled on my heel to stalk off into the gathering darkness.

This post has been edited by allshallfade: Aug 8 2007, 01:04 AM