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 Fourteen: A Permanent Retirement

Damn it. Damn it, damn it, damn it! As I made my way west through the forests surrounding Cheydinhaal, I replayed the scene with Antoinetta over and over through my head. I thought of the way she had tried to stalk me, her attempts to remain calm, cool and collected, her careful manipulation... and I had fallen for it! I had let her have control of me, and with such ease! As I listened once again to her voice in my head, I heard her softly whispered words taunting me, tempting me so; and all the while she knew that I could do nothing, that the Tenets prevented me from harming her... and I had known that too. Yet I had still reached for my dagger.

I cursed myself again. How could I have let that happen? She's insulted me before, she's taken digs at my position, my abilities... what was different this time? I couldn't even directly recall what had sent me over the edge. What had made me react so strongly? I tried to think back to her exact words... but it was all a just a blur of emotion. A blur of dark, deep anger, intense fury... and bloodlust.

I had never felt such a bloodlust as this- and I had only withheld a feeling like this once before. Before I killed the old woman Draconis, what felt like so long ago, I had always had an almost primordial urge to kill. It was almost as though I had been curious; I wanted to see what it was like, to take the life of another. And that one day hunting in the north, where there was no one around, no one to see me… the temptation had been too much. And this lifelong urge was now nothing compared with the one to kill Antoinetta.

And I also found myself wondering, once again, why Antoinetta hated me. She hated me before she knew me, so she must have known something of me before I had come to the Sanctuary. And no one from the Sanctuary had known me before then… except Lucien Lachance. But he had only met me very briefly- what could he have said that would inspire such a passionate dislike in her? He may have spoken well of my abilities to other family members, such as Ocheeva or Teinaava, I thought to myself. That could potentially explain it, if he spoke very highly of me- but still, he had barely known me!

I groaned, and decided to stop wondering why- however you spun it, she had handled the situation dreadfully, and I felt my hatred of her was now entirely justified.

So I spent the rest of my journey pondering the most effective methods to bring death to Antoinetta; which would be the most painful, the most prolonged, and the most enjoyable for myself. I came up with everything from strangling her with my bare hands to freezing her body with a paralyzing spell, at even intervals, and slowly making incisions in the most painful places I could, forcing her to watch as I destroyed her body.

My journey to Leyawiin was long and painful- it was agonizing thinking of Antoinetta, who was probably sitting back at the Sanctuary, smugly recalling how she had so easily manipulated me, while I was slugging through the muddy swamps… but I had been sent to kill Phillida, chosen above all others at the Sanctuary; above Antoinetta.

This was the thought that kept me going (along with the fantasies of Antoinetta’s demise at my hands), even when on the fourth day of my travels it started to pour relentlessly. I was seriously regretting my decision of traveling lightly, because every single pair of my clothes had been soaked.

And so I finally arrived at Leyawiin on the fifth day- wet, cold, and pissed. It was still raining when I made my way through the city gates, and the roads were just as bad as the swamp had been. I made my way to the Five Claws Lodge, the establishment I had stayed at my first visit to Leyawiin, when I had been sent to kill Scar Tail.

I entered the Inn in what I estimated to be mid-afternoon; but it was hard to tell with the weather being what it was.

“Hmm… I believe you’ve stayed here before,” the proprietor (with the quite common name “Witseidutsei”) said to me when I approached the counter.

This came as quite the shock to me. I had always considered myself fairly adept at disguise, or at least at being forgettable. At first I was quite taken aback, but my already less then positive mood led me to a feeling of being offended.

“I have,” I responded shortly, and she waited for me to continue. I stayed silent- I was not in the mood for small talk. She coughed.

“Yes, well then you know the drill- ten gold for the night, in the cleanest rooms in Leyawiin, I assure you!” She eyed my dirty, muddy form. “And I expect them to stay that way.”

A quarter of an hour later I was in a room of the Inn, stripping down out of my disgusting swamp clothes. I had asked the proprietor to bring in a tub of warm water for a bath; she had grudgingly agreed, but only after a payment of an additional three gold coins.

I slowly lowered myself into the scalding hot tub, drawing in sharp breaths as the hot water soaked my weary bones. The water turned to a murky brown within minutes as the dirt and grime was washed from my body. I leaned back in the tub, sighing contently. I let my mind wander, and was slightly surprised when it settled upon Lucien Lachance. I had not seen him since the day he inducted me into the Dark Brotherhood, yet his presence had remained constant in my mind. I wasn’t sure what it was that had kept me so interested, what compelled me to continue to think of him. Closing my eyes, I thought of his handsome, aquiline features, his deep, dark eyes and eloquent speech…

My musings were cut off abruptly as there was a huge crash from outside, and I jerked back to reality with a start, sloshing water over the side of the tub. I listened intently, but there was no need- I heard the easily recognized shouts and punches of a bar fight. Taking in a deep breath, I leaned back and tried to relax again. But I could not drown out the sounds coming from outside my door, and I was rather disconcerted by where my thoughts had been going before the interruption, so I carefully stepped out of the tub.

I stood still for few moments, dripping dry, for I had just come to the realization that I didn’t have any clean clothes, except my Dark Brotherhood leathers. Everything had been covered in mud, and was now either soaking wet or crusty with dried crap. Just bloody brilliant.

I was starting to get a bit cold, standing there stark naked and soaking wet just as the night air was starting to seep in, so I decided to continue my internal berating in the bed, under the covers. Once I was comfortable and warm I decided there was no point in getting out of bed, and soon fell asleep.

I awoke slowly the next morning, rather confused as to my surroundings at first. It took me awhile to remember where I was, with the shambled room and uncomfortable bed... and no clothes. But after a moment I recalled my mission, and my mistake, and sat up full of purpose. I needed to find a way to get some clothes, and without being seen wearing my Dark Brotherhood armor. I really didn’t want to put on my dirty swamp clothes… and I knew I could wash them, easily enough- but I wanted new clothes, and I felt like doing something a bit daring, a bit wicked. It was just one of those moods.

I climbed silently out of bed, rather uncomfortable in my nakedness, and opened the shutters just a crack. Miraculously enough, it had stopped raining, but the sky was still a bit dark. It must be nearing dawn, I decided.

I didn’t see anyone about in the streets, so I pushed the shutter open further. The streets were empty, not even a guard was about as far as I could see.

I thought quickly while I pulled on my Dark Brotherhood armor- I needed to find somewhere, or someone, to get clothes from. I couldn’t exactly go shopping about in this attire, so it was either stealing, or murdering. And I was really in the mood for the latter.

I left my room to find that the Inn was empty and silent, not a soul awake. I grabbed some bread and cheese from the bar and started wandering about the town, trying to find something or someone to rob. I was rounding a corner when I sighted a figure down at the end of the street. Darting back round the corner, I carefully leaned out only my head and tried to see who it was. The early morning fog was starting to lift, and the sun beginning to rise. I could see it was a woman, and she was walking quickly and purposefully.

But what I was really intrigued by was her apparel- a brown corset-like shirt, with a long linen skirt. Easy to move in, but still almost flattering, I thought to myself. Perfect.

I turned around to check my surroundings once again- it was still clear. I stuck my head back around the corner- she was getting closer, and I realized that all I had with me was a cheap steel dagger. I closed my eyes quickly, thinking fast, and then darted around the house I was using as cover, sliding up the alleyway further down the street, closer to the woman. She looked like a Breton, with brown hair and brown eyes- no beauty, but certainly not ugly.

I felt my breath catch up in my chest as she passed the alleyway, her labored pant making quite obvious her effort to move quickly. I tuned into just that- all that mattered in the world, all I felt, all I heard, was her breathing. And so I darted out from behind the house, dagger still loosely at my hip.

She didn’t even hear me coming, didn’t notice I was there, until my hands were round her neck. I made sure my grip was tight, before turning her head slightly to left, almost like warm-up swing, before violently yanking to my right. There was a satisfying
“crunch!” sound, and she fell limply to the ground at my feet. Her eyes were wide open, now eternally filled with fear.

I let out a deep breath, my eyes closed. By Sithis, that felt good. I’d had so much pent up frustration, anger, and bloodlust that I was quite proud (and rather surprised) of the restrained manner in which I had killed her.

But I did not have much time to enjoy the moment, for I knew that any instant someone could come walking by, and I still had not thought of what I was going to do with the body. I started to unlace the corset quickly, my fingers surprisingly steady. The kill had almost calmed my nerves, settled my emotions.

I slid her torso out of the corset, leaving her cloth bra on. I stuck my head out of the alley to check if anyone was round yet, but it remained clear. I started to loosen the skirt from around her hips, and found that she was wearing a layer of tan cotton pants beneath it. Smiling softly at my luck, I slid both garments off the woman and folded them carefully.

Now, what to do with the body? I could leave it where it was, but she would quickly be found, and the suspicion of murder would set in around the town. But there was not much time left before the streets would fill with people, and I had no idea where to bring the body. I realized I should have thought this out before killing her. Ah well- there was nothing I could do about that now.

I cast my eyes about the surrounding area, and Sithis was with me for I found there was a trapdoor coming out from one of the homes- most probably leading to a cellar or basement. Without a second thought I started dragging her towards it, lifting her up as much as possible to prevent a trail in the dirt. There was a lock holding the two doors shut, but I quickly picked it and swung open the doors to reveal a small ingredients cellar. I dropped her heavily down into the opening and slammed the trapdoor shut, relocking the entrance and smoothing the upturned dirt over in a matter of seconds.

I grabbed the pile of clothes and darted out into the street, striding briskly but lightly. Once back in my room (I climbed in through the window, for I sure that Witseidutsei was awake by now), I stripped down and changed into my new outfit- the corset was a bit tight, as I was taller then the woman, but the skirt was loose and fit comfortably. I set the pants aside, planning to wear them tomorrow if need be, and set about for preparation of the day.

I spent the morning getting to know the layout of the town, familiarizing myself with its design. There was not much to see- only a few shops, a church, the guildhalls and the castle. Something different from any other city I had been in Cyrodiil was the fact that there were little ponds and pools of water on the outskirts of the town, and I found that people used them to swim and bathe in.

I was keeping an eye out for Phillida, but didn’t spot him before late afternoon. I had been attempting to gossip with a group of woman outside the bookshop when I sighted the older man from afar, wearing an extravagant suit of silver armor. He was trailed closely by a smaller, younger man in beaten up Legionnare wear- obviously a body guard. They were walking out of my sight down another street, and so I hurriedly excused myself from the women and set off swiftly down the path, trying to seem inconspicuous while still moving quickly.

I rounded the street to and found that they were at the corner, talking with another guard. I walked a bit closer, listening carefully. They were discussing the mundane tasks of every-day guard duty- but as I drew closer, I saw the body guard’s eyes shift towards me. I immediately turned and pretended to be inspecting the flowers by the side of the road, but I could feel his eyes still upon me. After a moment I dared a glance up, and was startled by what I saw.

He was not looking at me in a suspicious way, as I had feared- no, his gaze was something was saying different. Something very, very different. His eyes were glazed over a bit, and I saw them travel from my feet upwards, pausing at certain points, until he reached my face and met my eyes. When he realized I was watching him he immediately looked away, and almost seemed to blush.

I could have laughed out loud- this man was attracted to me! My mind was already reeling with the possibilities, how I could use this to my advantage. I continued to watch him, and his charge. Phillida was turned the other way, talking to the other Imperial, but the bodyguard was now facing sideways to the road, and as he felt my gaze on him he visibly puffed out his chest and drew in his stomach, holding his chin out high.

Stifling a merciless grin, I decided to play along. I stepped back and leaned up against the building behind me, lazily stretching my limbs so the fabric of my outfit caught in all the right places. He shifted further so he could see me, and I could tell he was transfixed, so I decided to continue.

I gathered my hair in one hand, holding it off of my neck, while the other hand fanned my face.

“By the Nine, it gets hot in the afternoons!” I exclaimed.

I continued to fan my face for a moment, and then I reached down and pulled my skirt up on the right side (which was facing the body guard) to my upper thigh, under the pretense of cooling off. I could swear he was drooling by now.

By the way his eyes were exploring my body I could tell that he had never been with a woman- his expression was too curious, too naive, to be familiar with the ways of females. This made things all the more easy for me.

Before I could continue with my little games of seduction, Phillida started to walk off, and turned when he realized the body guard wasn’t following.

“Seviil! C’mon, let’s get going,” he exclaimed impatiently.

My eyes were on him as he turned and hurried off after Phillida. I originally would have followed them, but I had realized other possibilities. I could use this Seviil, the body guard, to gather my information- and it would be much faster, and more thorough, then my continued surveillance plans. The only problem was how to get him away from Phillida…

* * *


I did not arrive back at the Inn until much later that night, when most were already in their beds asleep. The bar was quiet, the only one present a drunken snoring Orc, and Witseidutsei. I approached her, ready to pay for the room another night. We exchanged the gold, and I was turning to go to my room when she spoke again.

“You know, there was someone asking about you today.”

I swirled around- probably too quickly, I realized, so I took a mental deep breath and calmed down, slowing my motions.

“Really?” I replied. “What for, and who was it?” I continued, trying to keep my tone neutral. So far my contracts for the Brotherhood had never brought me any trouble with the law, for I had been very careful- but you never knew when something incriminating could have been discovered, or someone had talked.

“That man who baby-sits Adamus Phillida all day- Seviil Varo- he was quite taken with you,” she said, wriggling her eyebrows. I breathed a sigh of relief, and then played the part. I also felt that my interaction with her the night before had been unnecessarily frigid, and it could be useful to have her on my good side- so I was going act much more amiably.

“The name doesn’t ring a bell… but I have seen him around town, I think. But how did you know he was asking about me?” I tried to seem skeptical, my confidence low.

“Well, he didn’t exactly ask about you at first… you see, he comes in here every day after the dinner rush- his only break from the old man, probably.”

I realized with a start that he must have been outside my room last night, if this was true. I had missed him because of my clothing dilemma… quite ironic, I thought sardonically, that the key to this contract had been so near.
“Anyways,” she continued- “I’ve come to know his moods, just like I do with most of the regulars. Today he was very distant and distracted, and I could tell his thoughts were elsewhere. I prodded a bit and finally got him to admit he was thinking about a girl,” she said, puffing her chest out proudly at this feat.

“I asked about her, and he said he didn’t even know her name. I told him to describe her, and he gave an almost identical description to you, clothes and all. And he also mentioned that he’d never seen you about town before, so you couldn’t be a native.”

“Really?” She nodded, and I realized I should probably show some reaction to this news.

“A guardsman, thinking I’m attractive…” I attempted a nervous giggle, and she smiled with a chuckle.

“Oh my, did he think you were attractive! I could swear he looked like a lovesick puppy when he described your dress.” I grinned sheepishly, and she continued, obviously proud with her matchmaking.

“I told him that you were staying here- boy did he turn about fast to find you in the crowd, you should have seen his face when I told him you hadn’t come in yet…” she laughed heartily, and I made gave little smile. “So he’ll definitely be by tomorrow, if you want to talk to him,” she finished.

“Oh… yes, of course! But what to wear…” I gave a nervous laugh, which she joined in with.

“Don’t worry, I think he’d be happy with anything… he’s a good boy, rather shy, but a he’s got a good heart. Treat him well,” she said, giving me a mock threatening look. I promised to do so, and bade her a vague goodnight, my thoughts already elsewhere.

As I lowered myself into the bed, pulling the covers up to my chin, I thought of the situation. I could easily talk Seviil up, get him to tell me Phillida’s schedule- and then I could decide when the best time to make my move would be. This sort of insider information would make my task a very simple one. I closed my eyes, and felt myself drifting off to sleep…

I dreamt that night of a pool, the moonlight reflecting off its surface with an earthly glow. In the center of the pool I could see myself, wearing my Dark Brotherhood armor, water up to my waist. Held loosely in my hand at my side was the Blade of Woe,
its point gleaming in reflection of the moon.

In front of me in the pool was a heap of dark cloth- the darkest black, even darker
than my own armor. And as I watched, the pool transformed from water to a mass of these dark, soggy materials. I realized that they were corpses, of people in black robes and hoods, piled high in the pool. I raised my dagger, and blood was dripping from it.

A figure appeared behind me, also in dark robes. I could see no face beneath its hood, and a rose was in its dark gloved hand. I watched as it crept up behind me, and I wanted to shout out, to warn myself- for a feeling of dread like I had never felt before was overwhelming me- but I could do nothing. I could not move, I could not talk; I could only watch.

And watch I did, as the figure placed the rose against my throat. I dropped my dagger into the pool, and there was a splash of red blood to welcome it. I raised my hands and gripped the sleeves of the figure. Not to stop him- to aid him with his task. He drew the rose across my neck slowly and smoothly, my own hands guiding his. I could see thin lines of blood running down my pale neck.

My expression did not change, even as the blood started to gush from my open throat; my eyes were hollow and lifeless long before the breath left my body. As I fell beneath the surface of the pool, the figure raised its head to look directly across at me. And what I saw was indescribable- two pools of endless black, an infinity of space. A void.

When I awoke, I had forgotten the dream- but an unshakable feeling of dread remained.

However, I quickly pushed aside my sensation of dread as an anxiety over the gravity of the contract, and started to plan for the day. And as I set my thoughts to my task, I realized that I didn’t know what to do for the day. I was going to meet with Seviil Varo tonight, and try to woo him into revealing all I needed to know about Phillida. Therefore, I did not need to tail them- I didn’t even need to find them at all.

I sat for a good quarter of an hour, pondering this fact, after having made my bed, eaten a breakfast of stale bread and grapes, and dressed. After another quarter of an hour of silence and little movement, I realized something. I was bored.

This was a new feeling to me, at least for my recent past. I had been occupied by contracts, and by time spent at the Sanctuary, for there was always something to do there- be it long discussions with Teinaava about anything and everything, arguing with Gogron about the most effective ways of assassination, training with Ocheeva, trying to persuade M’raaj Dar to barter with me, or verbally sparring with Antoinetta- I was always occupied. I now had free time, and hadn’t the faintest idea what to do with it.

I thought back to my time before the Brotherhood- what had I done then to cure this feeling? I closed my eyes in concentration, for my years before the Brotherhood had been pushed to a far corner of my mind, to be covered in dust and never thought of again.

After a moment of careful meditation, I finally came up with something- I could go hunting, or gathering for alchemical supplies. Quite happy to finally have something to do, I put together a day pack and strode purposefully from the Inn and out the Main Town gates.

I spent the day hunting the scarce edible game around Leyawiin, and gathering some of the unique plant life. I found several bushes of my favorite flower, Nightshade, and looked forward to making some sinister poisons with the buds I carried.

I returned to the Inn in the later afternoon, my bag a bit heavier then it had been when I left. I cleaned myself with some spare water, and dressed carefully, for once taking a long time to make sure I looked appealing to the public eye. I used my fingers to unknot my jet black hair, and let it fall loose at my shoulders. I still had over an hour to spare once this was done, so I spent the time experimenting with my alchemy equipment, and my new ingredients.

I find alchemy to be a most satisfying art, one that calms my nerves. There is nothing like taking two, three, or four completely different things and combining them to achieve one effect. I especially was skilled at the art of poison making, and that was a reason Nightshade was my favorite flower, aside from it’s beautiful appearance.

One the outside, Nightshade is just an attractive, violet flower, with thick petals and a long stem. But on the inside, once brewed correctly, it’s properties can bring about a person’s death; and depending on how you create it, a slow and painful death, or a quick and silent one. This deception I found most appealing.

Today, however, I tried something different, something I had been experimenting with for quite some time- a sleeping draught. I had a few samples of it already, that had been mildly successful, but I wished to make it powerful enough to work for hours instead of minutes.

I was quite absorbed in my trials that I almost didn’t notice when the light started to leave the sky, and the barroom outside become louder and fuller. I carefully put my things away, slipped my freshly finished vial of sleeping draught in my skirt folds, and exited my room.

The scene I entered was a loud and crowded one- there was quite a full house that night. Men were drinking by the pint, already starting to break out into song and easy laughter, while others were becoming a bit violent and aggressive. I hastily scouted out the room, and saw that Seviil was not there yet.

I took a seat at the bar, and ordered a goblet of wine from the smug Witseidutsei, who was grinning knowingly. I sipped from it, waiting impatiently. I was quite keen to get on with the contract.

An old drunk man in rags approached me, grinning with yellow-stained teeth and red eyes, but he was quickly deterred by a death glare. I knew I could be quite terrifying if the situation arose for it. My eyes quite obviously said “I will kill you, and I will enjoy it”. And it was evident there was no lie in my gaze.

A few moments later I felt eyes upon my back, and I swiveled in my bar stool to find Seviil at the doorway. He looked away when I tried to meet his gaze, and his posture was stiff and his gaze fixed. There were two seats empty at the bar. One was next to myself, and the other around the corner. He started to head for the corner.

Witseidutsei was watching him as well, and when she saw this she shoved the drunken old man standing at the corner sideways, and he stumbled onto the stool, and found himself unable to stand again. Witseidutsei gave me a sideways wink, and turned back to serving.

I saw Seviil give a deep swallow, as though bracing himself, before striding over to sit next to me. He ordered an Ale, and tried to look anywhere but at me. His cheeks were tinted red, and his posture was still stiff. I realized, with a bit of exasperation, I would have to get things moving along.

“Busy night, eh?” I said, gesturing toward the crowd with a nod of my head.

He looked alarmed at my speaking to him, and responded seconds later with only
a curt nod of his head, and an “Mmm” of acknowledgment.

I waited another moment, where I noticed him shifting uncomfortably in his seat, before continuing.

“You know, I could swear I’ve seen you about town, but I just can’t place it,” I said, turning towards him.

“I seem to, ah, recall, seeing you too,” he said, his voice hesitant.

I narrowed my eyes, as though inspecting his face carefully, while he tried not to
seem to notice. After a few seconds I let out an exclamation of triumph.

“Aha! I know now- you’re the one who is always with that man in the white armor- Adamus Phillida, right?”

“Yes, that is me.” He seemed quite pleased that I recognized him.

“So, that’s quite the important job, guarding such a respected and high esteemed man. You must be quite the guy to be chosen for such an honor,” I said, giving him a small smile. He finally was making eye contact with me, and seemed a bit more comfortable, his chest puffed out with pride at my words.

“I was chosen out of all the Legion based here in Leyawiin, and believe me, most were not happy about being passed up for this opportunity. My father especially was thrilled when I received such an honor, for he had not seen much promise in me before.”

I could see in his eyes that his relationship with his father was not the best, and
decided to play on that a bit.

“Not seen much promise? Is he blind?” I made a show of looking him up and down. “You’ve got the natural physique of a soldier, with your broad shoulders and muscled arms!”

His face was bright red now, and he shifted a bit once again, only this time in a
manner to puff out his chest and show his arms off a bit more. I continued on.

“And the way you walk- so limber, so graceful! You must do wonders at swordplay.”

“Yes, well, I have always been of the mind that my talent has not been appreciated yet,” he said pompously, looking me right in the eye.
The double entendre was not lost on either of us. I tried not to let my involuntary shiver of disgust show too much, before continuing.

“I must agree! I was just going to say how you’re armor isn’t really of great quality, and that you deserve much more- but even though your armor isn’t as extravagant as others, you wear it so much better,” I said this with a sly smile, and he gave a self satisfied smirk. Time to cut to the chase, I thought.

“I’ve always loved a man in armor,” I continued, my voice low and about as suggestive as you could get. I looked right into his deep brown eyes as I said this, and I
watched as his expression came to something that I couldn’t describe in any way other than “hopeful”.

I was getting a bit impatient, and I could see Witseidutsei lingering near us more than was necessary- I realized she was listening. The information I was trying to gather may seem suspicious if thought about after Phillida’s death; I was not worried about the bodyguard, but Witseidutsei seemed to know everyone and everything, and therefore she had a gossiping mind. She may make the connection, I thought darkly. I didn’t want anyone to even consider me as a culprit, so I decided to make things a bit more private.

“Would you like to come into my room? It will be much quieter, and we can be alone, to-” I looked him in the eye meaningfully, “-talk.”

His eyes widened, and at first I worried I had gone too far. But I quickly realized it wasn’t reluctance, but fear. He was nervous. I suppose that was understandable, seeing as I knew now almost certainly that he had never bedded a woman before- but he was the man. He wasn’t supposed to show fear. I found myself feeling almost angered by his weakness.

“I would enjoy that very much.” He had found his voice at last.

Rising from my stool silently, he followed me as I unlocked my room. As I let him enter in front of me and turned to close the door, I saw Witseidutsei give me a surprised look, but she smiled a bit before the door clicked closed.

I turned back to Seviil, and gestured for him to sit at the little table with two chairs in the corner. He complied, and I filled the other chair. There was a bottle of wine and two goblets, and I poured one for each of us. We sipped in silence for a moment, and I realized he would not be the one to speak first. I ground my teeth in annoyance, before speaking.

“So, tell me more of your duties as a body guard. Does anything exciting ever happen?” I asked, feigning naivety.

“All I really have to do is follow Phillida around all day- he’s retired, so there’s not much adventuring going on,” he said, rubbing a hand through his short black hair.

I pretended to look a bit disappointed, and he quickly started speaking again.

“Well, there was this one time we helped to capture an escaping prisoner, but there wasn’t much fighting. After we heard of the prisoner’s escape, he made up a plan at a moment’s notice- and within the hour we had the outlaw in our grasp, with no casualties. Adamus is intelligent and wise, a good leader- and a good man, who believes in justice, but is also merciful.”

“That must have been very exciting! I’ve heard stories of Phillida’s skill as a guard, and all spoke highly of him. He doesn’t seem to be the man to retire, though. I always thought he’d work until he was killed in the line of duty, no matter how old,” I said thoughtfully.

Seviil shifted once again, his eyes darting about a bit. He was on the verge of telling me something, I could feel it. I batted my eyelashes at him, lips parted as though in curiosity, and his expression softened.

“To be truthful, he does get a bit restless. He’s also not happy that I’ve been assigned to watch him at all times… he feels he can obviously take care of himself, and wants to enjoy his retirement without someone breathing down his neck. Can’t say I blame him, I wouldn’t like the situation if I were him either…”

“Well you’re not with him right now,” I said in a matter-of-fact tone. “Where is he now?”

“Ah, well, he’s in bed right now. Sleeping,” he replied, but after a brief and hesitant pause; quite obviously a lie.

I gave a little laugh, and he seemed quite confused. I rolled my eyes in an exaggerated manner.

“Oh, okay, he’s sleeping,” I said, still laughing, and he looked downward shamefully. I continued to watch him, my eyes dancing with amusement.

“Alright, alright, so maybe he’s not sleeping…” he relented, grinning- but he didn’t continue.

“Aw, now you’ve got me intrigued! So where is he, if he’s not in bed and you’re not beside him?” I said, my tone playful, and I batted his arm lightly.

He mocked rubbing his arm, as though I had hurt him.

“No more, no more! I’ll tell you- as long as you promise not to hit me again!”

“I make no promises,” I said, grinning wickedly.

“I guess I’ll have to take my chances then.”

“I suppose you will,” I responded, and I folded my arms and gave him an expectant look. He grinned.

“Well, if you must know, I do feel a bit bad for him… so I give him a break every once in awhile. The reason Phillida retired down here in Leyawiin is because he loves to swim; but he only likes to swim alone. Round this time, the pools in town are empty and everyone’s off having dinner. I come here to have a drink, and let him swim for an hour so.”

I could barely contain my glee- Sithis be praised, I could not ask for a more perfect scenario! If what he said was true, and there wasn’t anyone about at this time of
day, I could sneak out now, kill Phillida and be done with this all! Now, just to get rid of the bodyguard… I knew I couldn’t kill him, for it would be all too obvious that I was the culprit. But as shifted my leg, I felt the vial within my skirt. A plan formulated.

“‘Every once in awhile?’” I repeated. “You sneak! Witseidutsei told me you come here everyday!”

He laughed at my indignant expression, but then seemed to understand what my statement implied.

“You spoke to Witseidutsei about me?”

I lowered my head, as though in embarrassment. I felt his fingers beneath my chin, and he raised my head level to his gaze.

“I told you mine, now you must share yours,” he said, raising an eyebrow mockingly. I sighed, rolling my eyes.

“Mmm… well, to be truthful… I saw you in the bar the other night, and again in town yesterday… and I was intrigued.” I said, inventing wildly. “So I asked her about you, and she said you came in every night…” I trailed off.

There was a silence, and when I looked up into his eyes, I saw an all too familiar look in them. Hurriedly, I reached for the bottle in front of us, my other hand in my lap.

“Would you like another glass of wine?”

He shook his head lightly, as though clearing it of a thought, and nodded.

When I had placed my hand in my lap I had slipped the vial of sleeping drought out of the fold of my skirt, uncorking it swiftly with a deft movement of my fingers. As I went to pour into his glass, I made sure to lean in closely to his body, and I caught his gaze and smiled at him, keeping him entranced in my eyes as I dumped both the wine and the drought into his goblet. I leaned back quickly and placed the wine at a strategic angle behind the vase of flowers, so the vial was hidden from Seviil’s view.

I waited, but he didn’t take a sip. He was still watching me, eyes glazed over a bit. He started to lean forward, his hand about to touch mine, which sat on the table- but I drew it away quickly to grab my goblet of wine. I held it in the air, and gestured for him to do the same. He was confused at first, but caught on quickly. He grabbed his goblet and clinked it against mine, smiling.

I returned the smile, and then tilted my head back and drank deeply, watching Seviil out of the corner of my eye. He was doing the same. I kept drinking, gulping down mouthfuls of wine, and knew that he would not stop until I did- men and their pride.

I made sure to drink a sizable portion of the goblet, which of his spiked would be enough I knew to knock him out for hours, before I took a final swallow and pulled away from the glass.

He waited another brief pause and did the same, smacking his lips. I met his eyes and gave a bashful smile. His eyes lit up, and he started to lean forward. Seeing no way to avoid it, I too started to lean forward, sending an urgent prayer to the Night Mother that the drugs kicked in quickly…

And it was answered. I could feel his hot breath upon my face, and was just inches away from his lips when suddenly his eyelids drooped, and his expression became lax. Another instant later he was collapsed in is chair, snoring loudly. I closed my eyes and gave a silent thanks to the Night Mother.

My plan was thus- I would now take him, undress him, and place his body in my bed, arranging the surroundings appropriately so it would seem that what he wished for had occurred. I would sneak out of my room window, find Phillida, kill him, and return to the bed. This way, when Seviil awoke, I could convince him we had spent the night together, and that it was just so amazing his memory must have been muddled. This would effectively clear me of suspicion, and I could leave the next day without worry.

And so I carried the first part of my plan out quickly, rather enjoying throwing things about the room (including his clothes) in an ungainly manner. But I was moving quickly, for there was no time to be wasted- we had been talking for a fair bit of time, and who knew when Phillida would be getting out of the water and putting that wretched armor back on.

I didn’t want to go through the rather lengthy process of putting my Dark Brotherhood leathers on, so I simply gathered up my bow, the Blade of Woe, and last but certainly not least, the Rose of Sithis. I opened the shutters of the window and stuck my head out, making sure no one was nearby. Once satisfied that the coast was clear, I stuck a leg through. I took one last look at Seviil, who was still snoring loudly, and pushed the rest of my body out, into the gathering twilight.

The sun was just disappearing on the horizon, and the crickets had come out to sing their songs. And that was the only noise to be heard, besides the dull sounds coming form the bar behind me. Seviil was right- no one was about. I couldn’t even spot a guard.

Not wasting another moment, I started off down the street, sticking to the shadows, which were rapidly forming as the sun disappeared. As I passed by an alleyway between two houses, I suddenly felt an almost familiar chill in the air, and a sensation that I was being watched.

It was quickly forgotten though, once I cast my gaze down the road. I could see between a gap in two houses a pool of water. And in the pool of water, I spotted Adamus Phillida, shirtless and exposed, with no one about. The familiar thrill rose in my stomach, and I dropped down into a crouch and drew my bow. I darted to my left, pressing my back against the city wall. I slid around the corner of the wall towards the pool, making sure to remain hidden in the darkness.

As I drew closer to the pool I slowed my step, treading carefully. I waited for a moment, until Phillida started to stroke and swim about a bit, before moving again, using the stirring of the water to mask my sounds of movement. I was very close now, just at the edge of the water, concealed by a cluster of boulders. He was facing away from me, swimming for the opposite side of the pool.

I started to creep closer, but I felt my heart stop as I kicked a small stone with my left shoe. It rolled quietly, but dropped off the edge of a boulder into the pool with a very audible splash. My blood turned to ice as Phillida’s body stiffened, and he started to turn. I dropped down as low as I could, pressing my bow to the ground, but kept my eyes on Phillida. After a moment that seemed to last hours, he appeared to disregard the noise and continued his leisurely swim.

His back was still to me, as he was doing the backstroke towards my direction. I raised my bow, notching the Rose of Sithis with some reverence. I drew my arm back slowly and as silently has possible, my muscles shaking from the effort of keeping the arrow fletched. I took careful aim, holding the bow as steady as I could. Time seemed to slow, and I felt the familiar rush of a kill, the sensation sweeping my entire body. The tension was too much, I had to release it, I couldn’t hold on much longer-

And I let go of the Rose, letting it fly free. It struck him through the throat, where I had aimed. That moment was indescribable, the moment of such a powerful kill. I could scarcely move for a time, my body completely consumed by the murder. For at long last, Adamus Phillida was dead at the hands of the Dark Brotherhood.

But there was still more to be done- if I wanted my bonus, I needed his finger. I lifted my skirt and waded into the pool, drawing my dagger. The blood from his wound was starting to taint the clarity of the water, turning it scarlet. I stuck my hands under his arms and carefully flipped over his body. I grabbed at his right arm and held up the hand on which the ring sat upon, raising my dagger in preparation. Just at this moment, however, I looked down at the face of Adamus Phillida.

And I was stunned by the spark of recognition. I was physically staggered,
enough so that I dropped his hand with a splash back into the pool and stepped back. I had seen his face before, not long ago. Thinking hard, I had a flash of his face, upside-down, backed by azure skies, his lips mouthing “Are you okay miss?”

My first contract, when I had been sent to kill the pirate Captain, I had swum across the Rumare Lake, and when I reached the shores of the Waterfront, exhausted, an Imperial Legion Officer had helped me stand and asked me if I was okay. That Imperial Legion Officer had been Adamus Phillida, probably mere weeks before his retirement.

I am still not sure why this staggered me so, except that it had been so unexpected, and such a profound coincidence, that I noticed nothing else. For that must be the reason the sounds of the approaching guards were not heard by my ears.

They came from the barracks, their steps and talk loud enough- but I was completely distracted by my revelation, and did not notice their presence until it was too late. They spotted me a slight second after I saw them. Their gaze was confused, but when they saw the body of a man in the water before me, and my dagger still in hand, they instantly sprung into action, shouting wildly.

I supposed they had been heading to the pub, for they had no weapons, so I figured my best chance was to run. Cursing myself for my moment of weakness, I set off out of the pool and up the banks, darting between two houses. They tried to cut me off in the street. I sprinted the opposite way, my heart racing. My body jolted with adrenaline when I heard something strike a wall near me with a resounding crack; they were throwing rocks. And as I realized this, I started to dash down an alleyway… when time seemed to slow as I heard something strike the house on my right.

Next was a rushing sound, louder and louder, until a final crack echoed throughout my head… and all was black.