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

[Priest of Sithis]

Very good story, makes me want to play the Questline over again...

Sithis would be proud...

[The Metal Mallet]

Whew! That took quite some time to get through but it was certainly worth it! Adrienne's story so far has been quite a thrill to read. Lots of detailed emotions and thoughts are expressed thoroughly. Your renditions of WhoDunIt? and the Purification were fantastic. The description of the kills are vivid and brutal (and sometimes amusing; I'm thinking about Matilde there).

I can tell a lot of work was made on this body of work, especially if you've been working on it for over a year; the seamlessness of the flow of the story really shows that. You must post at other places (which looking at the other's comments, is correct) because it would certainly take some motivation from others via comments to keep up writing this (I'm sure some of the others at this forum here who have been writing for awile know what I'm talking about). And I'm sure those comments have been positive for the most part.

There is one thing that I thought would've been nice to see though. I really liked the fact that you created a less obvious antagonism with Antoinette, but I would've enjoyed a few more verbal exchanges with M'raaj. I think it would've made his sudden change of demeanor once the Purification pack a bigger punch. That's just my opinion though.

Overall, though, I look forward to the future installments of this story. I'm glad you decided to post this here.

[BSD-IES]

Well with the arrival of this here, this site now has in my opinion three of the four best TES fanfictions written. Trey, Override and now yourself.

I guess I have an excuse to read it several times now, on several different sites.

[allshallfade]

I was going to wait until I posted the next chapter until I replied to your wonderful reviews, but it's taking longer then I thought it would and I felt bad so I figured I'd respond now- it means a lot to me that you would take the time to read and review my work, and I don't want you feeling unloved! This is the fastest I've ever joined a site and gotten so many review so quickly, and it really is awesome.

@burntsierra- Thank you so much! Yea, I realised I probably should have only posted a few chapters... once I was finished doing the entire thing! I know it's daunting to see such a long work, but I hope people will still read! And also, thank you for the warm welcome- it means a lot.
@Black Hand- Haha, yea, I love posting my work! It's so fun to get feedback, and to join several different communites. I've met some great people that way. Thank you for the review!
@Priest of Sithis- Thank you! I hope you continue to read and enjoy!
@The Metal Mallet- Wow... thank you so much for taking the time to read the story in it's entirety! You are a brave man xD And yes, I've put a lot of effort into this- I've filled several notebooks planning, and it's been a big part of my life for the past year. And as you said, I certainly wouldn't have been able to do it without the widespread support I'm getting across the web- really, I wouldn't be able to do it without everyone who takes the time to read and review. About M'raaj Dar- I know exactly what you mean, and my only excuse is that I really just forgot that I hadn't written much conflict with him, and I relied too much on the assumption that the reader would have played the game and would therefore already know of the player character's conflict with the Khajiit. But now I'm getting word that people who don't necessarily play Oblivion are reading the story, so I will go back and remedy that when I do the final edit. And once again, thank you for your wonderful, insightful review!
@BSD-IES- That means so much to me! Thank you for your kind words, I'm blushing now! And I know you from the Lucien site, I believe? Great to see you here, and thanks once again!

And also I figured I'd post some of the fanart that people have drawn me for this story- I can't thank them enough for the time and effort they put into it, it's really extraordinary.

Adrienne- by Hyascinthe (for my birthday)
Adrienne and Lucien- by Hyascinthe
Adrienne in the beginning- by Shiniku
Adrienne pencil- by Shiniku
Murder in the Streets- by Shiniku
After the Purification- by Ayleid

This post has been edited by allshallfade: Aug 17 2007, 02:04 AM

[allshallfade]

I'm so sorry about the double-post, but I just realized that the last paragraph of the chapter "The Purification" was cut off because of word-count limits in posting! Oops

Here's the final paragraph:

Finally, at long last, Antoinetta was dead! I felt such a feeling of elation like none I had ever experienced form a kill- I had waited so long for this moment, dreamed of it- and finally, here she lay, dead by my hand! An explosion of emotion, of elation, so powerful and inexplicable, was coursing through my body and leaving me unable to even move for a moment it was so overwhelming.

And when I summoned the strength to look about the room, my eyes traveled from the forms of Ocheeva and Teinaava lying dead in front of me to Antoinetta's headless corpse at my side... but my expression did not change from the one of utmost sadistic joy, with wild eyes and a smile of bloodied teeth- for the only regret that I felt was that Antoinetta's death had been over too quickly...

...for nothing could surpass a satisfying kill.

Nothing.

This post has been edited by allshallfade: Aug 17 2007, 02:05 AM

[The Metal Mallet]

Oh yea, I forgot about that cutoff. I think that's the first time that I've seen a post like that cutoff due to how much writing was in it.

It now certainly appears that Adrienne has evolved further into her murdering ways. It's going to take a lot to dissuade her from killing something from now on I bet. Once again, I look forward to the continuation of this story.

[Priest of Sithis]

More, tell us more...

you have rare talent... keep it up!

And also, I think females are better at killing people than males, just to throw that in there...lol

[minque]

Oh boy.....I´ve finally read through it....it´s just purely awesome! What a woman....that Adrienne..phew. Anyway this is a really beautifully written story, you certainly have a great talent. I´m glad to have had the opportunity to read it and I sincerely hope you´ll brighten this place with more of your great work!

Thank you for sharing this.....

[allshallfade]

Thank you everyone for your kind words! Reviews are really what keeps me writing, so I truly can't say enough to show my gratitude.

And without further ado, I give you the newest chapter!

Chapter Nineteen: Self-Control, Self-Contempt

Lucien Lachance sighed with satisfaction, carefully placing his quill back into the finely ornamented ink bottle at his elbow. He looked down at his piece of parchment fondly, the elaborate script still moist upon its surface, shimmering softly from the glow of the fire. Leaning in closer, he gently blew over the parchment, drying it with the utmost care. This was an important letter, he thought with a sardonic grin- he had to make sure it was in perfect condition for delivery.

Scanning the page quickly, he reread its contents with pride, cherishing that even the first line had its dose of subtle hostility. Well... on second thought, maybe it was not quite so subtle; he chuckled maliciously as he read on. Nonetheless he was quite confident that the one who was to read this letter would be incapable of parsing through the large vocabulary and overzealous praise to discover the true insult intended. And so he felt no trepidation when he folded the parchment up neatly and sealed it shut with the insignia on his ring- two L's intertwined elaborately around a dagger, a symbol of the Black Hand framing the scene. Teinaava and Ocheeva had had this ring made for him upon his promotion to Speaker, and he had used it religiously ever since.

Looking at the ring brought back the flood of thoughts he had been working so hard to keep at bay, for the letter had been a distraction, as intended, from such musings... Teinaava and Ocheeva... the Sanctuary... and with them came a reminders of the Purification... and of Adrienne. Since the letter had arrived from Ocheeva detailing the circumstances of Telaendril's death, Lucien knew that Adrienne had decided to go through with the Purification for the Brotherhood... and for him...
He was experiencing something that he had not encountered in quite some time- and that was intense emotion. And the emotion that it had currently taken form as was worry. He was worried about her- worried about her efforts to complete the Purification, and he couldn't control it. He thought his feelings had been tiresome before he had received the letter... but now he knew she was going to, on his orders (or, more likely, already had), attempt to kill several of the Brotherhood's most skilled assassins- but not only that, she would be killing those she had come to call “family”. It would be difficult, and she would have to overcome many obstacles (not merely physical, but those emotional as well- he reminded himself) to succeed. She was one of the few people who was actually capable of such a task... but for some inexplicable reason, the sensation of an unnatural weight in his stomach remained; a feeling almost like he had eaten something unsettling.

He found the entire concept quite unnerving, to worry over someone other than himself. Yes, he felt anxiety sometimes, for the going-ons within the Brotherhood, for its future under the leadership of the fool Ungolim- but this was something quite different. This was feeling for one single person, someone not himself, and it was nearly overwhelming to his inexperienced psyche.

He shook his head slightly- his thoughts were running away from him, and he gave a grimace of disgust at his lack of self discipline. Lucien was a man who liked to be in control... of everything. He was powerful, intelligent, and arrogant, and these traits resulted in him being very good at influencing a situation to turn out the way that benefited him most. He was in complete control of those around him, as well as himself, in nearly every aspect possible.

He had trained himself to be so- he had taught himself to be capable of regulating even his very emotions. The process had been treacherous, and not all of which had been through entirely intentional methods- yet the outcome had been that he could choose when and how he would let an event or a person effect him. But not now... Adrienne had found a way through these defenses that had taken him years to construct, and it seemed she had done so effortlessly- and even unintentionally.

He had even had the notion to go down to the Cheydinhal Sanctuary himself already- but he knew he should wait until at least the end of the week before taking such drastic action. And that was a ridiculous notion, anyways. What was he going to do, aid her in her task? The Black Hand had sanctioned this mission to her, and her alone. No matter how ridiculous, an order was an order- he served the Dark Brotherhood and its matrons with the utmost conviction and loyalty- and Lucien had been told not to interfere. Yet he still found himself fighting the urge to throw back his chair and make his way through the clouded night to the Sanctuary....

Lucien sighed, tenting his slender long fingers against his furrowed brow. After a moment he closed his eyes tight with frustration, trying to clear his mind once again. The courier was due soon, and the Speaker was awaiting this arrival to send off his parcel to Ungolim. The thought of the letter brought a slight smile to his features, and he opened his eyes and drew his hands away from his face, shifting his muscles in the creaking chair. Lucien looked down at the old wooden seat, fingering the armrest thoughtfully- it had been here for at least decade, and he knew it would most likely remain there for another one after this. He really wasn't one for redecorating, he thought grimly...

Suddenly the hairs on the back of his neck rose and a chill ran down his spine, his blood running cold- there was someone else nearby, and close. Lucien leapt from his chair and whipped around to find a figure standing in the center of the room, covered by the shadows cast from the blazing fire. His hand went for his dagger, but he paused in mid-motion as the silhouette moved forward. Icy blue eyes met his, and he felt his blood run frigid at the emptiness he found within their depths.

The woman stepped into the beam of light shining down from the open trapdoor, her pale, alabaster skin reflecting brilliantly off the gathering moonlight. Her black hair was down loose again, thrown back from her face and flowing softy in the slight breeze that snaked down into the room. Glowing from the starlight, she was like a vision, a goddess- and Lucien was at first stunned into speechlessness at the sight of her, his eyes locked in hers.

There was a brief silence, Adrienne watching Lucien with an expressionless gaze while he tried to mask his surprise, swallowing deeply. How in Sithis's name had she gotten in without him knowing? He must have been deep in thought, that must have been it... yet it still left him feeling uncomfortable that she had been able to do so, and he found himself starting to doubt his own abilities for the first time in years...

But those same years of practice let him hold his composure, his eyes not letting any of his alarm show. He continued to hold her gaze, seemingly as collected as ever.

"Ah, Adrienne," he finally spoke, keeping his voice nonchalant.

She inclined her head in response, and when she raised her eyes all that he was met with was the hollow shells of one who has not only just witnessed great tragedy, but also been the cause of it, for he had known the moment he had seen her darkened eyes that the Purification was complete.

She was...different, and there was no other way to describe it. Her stature was as tall as before, her shoulders squared defiantly to the world- but her normally proud chin was lowered, framed by a face paler then customary while her very aura radiated grief. And there was something else different, but he could not quite place it...

Yes, the grief was to be expected- yet Lucien could not help finding himself feeling... proud that she was in such considerably good state. There had been a silence while he had been pondering this, and he realized she was waiting for him to speak.

“And so, I take it that the ritual of Purification has been completed?” he said, only a slight hint of question in his voice.

“It is done,” she inclined her head once again, her voice toneless.

“They are dead, yes...but it is not done...” Lucien murmured, while Adrienne looked up at him, a sense of alarm in her eyes. He was not looking forward to this... it was something he knew would be difficult; something he had not had thought to tell her of during their last meeting, so enraptured with her presence he had been... He turned suddenly, pacing away from her for a few steps, his posture showing that he was thinking furiously. After a moment he swiveled on his heel, finally having prepared his words.

“Have you heard of something termed as the 'Ritual of Descent'?” Her eyes, which filled with vague recognition, gave him his answer- and so he continued, an ominous sigh in his voice. “It is a sort of funeral, if you will, that must be performed for a servant of Sithis to travel safely to his side in the Void,” He watched her carefully, and saw that the calm, collected air she had been grasping to was starting to dissemble before his very eyes.

“Oh!” she let out a soft gasp. “I... they are all...dead... but I did not know of a Ritual that was necessary in order to join Sithis!” Her eyes were darting around frantically, despair radiating off from her very body. He knew that the very notion that her family members may be lost forever in a state of limbo, never reaching the destination that should await those who had loyally served their dark matrons was terrible enough- but that now it would be her fault... “Is there still time?” she finally asked, her voice breaking.

He placed a large, strong hand firmly on her shoulder, staring intently at her lowered face.

“The Ritual may be performed up to several days after death- it has not even been long enough since I last saw you for there to be worry,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “It will be taken care of, I assure you.”

He watched her, eyes carefully scanning the contours of her face- and after a moment of silence Lucien felt her shoulders sag as she let out a deep breath, and he let his hand slide off down her arm, lingering for just a moment on her soft skin. She raised her downcast head then, her eyes looking up into his with an expression that Lucien could not interpret. He found himself transfixed, mystified- she held his gaze unwaveringly, something she had never been capable of before...

And suddenly a dull pounding was all he heard, enclosed in the otherwise eerie silence encompassing the two of them; he was aware of how close they now stood, mere inches separating their flesh... her gaze was so intense, he could not stand it, he had to look away; and so with a great effort he tore his eyes from hers, and let them drift downwards, where they stopped at her mouth... her lips, so soft, so inviting... her eyes were fiery now, he could sense it.... he felt himself starting to lean forward, and as he drew even closer he felt the warmth of her body engulf his own... his stomach suddenly felt light and empty, as though a gust of wind had lifted him into the air while he inhaled her scent... Nightshade... a rush of feeling warming his very core... they were very close now, so close....

No!

Lucien drew his body away from Adrienne, taking a hasty step back into the shadows. She was watching him in alarm, her eyes wide- he raised a hand and pressed it against his brow, closing his own eyes tightly. What had just happened? Why had he done that? It had been so unexpected, so unlike him... What in the name of Chaos was he thinking?

That was just it- he hadn't been thinking, he berated himself. Disgusted in his lack of control, he started to prepare himself to face her, for he was dreading her reaction to his idiocy; he took a breath and opened his eyes again to look back to Adrienne- but instead his gaze was drawn to her cheek, where a thin line of blood was starting to drip down to her neck. He was confused- hadn't this same wound been bleeding upon her last visit?

But she had noticed his focus on her cheek, and was watching him with a look of perplexity and bewilderment. Untrusting of himself to speak yet, he raised a hand to his own face, not risking moving close enough to touch hers. A look of dawning comprehension in her eyes, Adrienne followed his action and touched her bloodied cheek, wincing slightly at the tenderness of the wound.

“Yes... well, it wasn't the skeletons this time,” she said, her tone slightly sardonic. He didn't quite know what to make of it- and he found himself wondering about the Purification, what she had done. He wondered what tactics she had used to kill the ones she had loved, who had died first, and why- he wondered if she had killed them all at once, or if their deaths had been each a separate, sacred to her- he wondered if she had cried for her fallen family members, if she regretted her actions now-and he wondered who had been the one to injure her how fiercely she had struck back... but after a moment of silence she did not elaborate, so he decided it was time for him to speak.

“In any case, it seems that the wound is much deeper then last we met- I'm going to assume that you've already used some sort of wizardry in an attempt to heal it?” He relished in the change of subject, allowing himself to forget what had just happened- or nearly happened, rather. She considered him for a moment before answering, her eyes dark.

“Just your basic health spells; unfortunately my skill in the art of Restoration is far too sorely lacking to have allowed for anything complex.”

That was what he had expected, and he responded with a grim face. “I'm afraid that it wouldn't make much of a difference- there are some wounds that magic cannot heal, and it seems this may be one of them. I do have a special salve, crafted from rare and rather... dangerous ingredients, that may lessen the scaring...” His face remained grim however. “...but I'm quite sure that you will carry this mark for the rest of your life.” And he watched as her eyes filled with hatred then, a flame in them so intense that he could feel the very heat radiating off of her- and he knew that whoever had done this to her must have paid dearly. He saw her jaw muscles grate, but she kept her tone even.

“I suppose there's no hurt in trying.”

Lucien nodded curtly and turned away from her, striding purposefully from the room and around the corner to his storage area. Once out of sight of Adrienne, he breathed in a lung-bursting breath and ground his teeth, holding it a moment before letting himself exhale slowly- he could never let himself lose control like that again, he thought forcefully. Ever.

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What had just happened? I replayed the scene over and over in my mind's eye, recalling the heat from our bodies, the intensity in Lucien's eyes as he drew closer, the thumping of my racing heart- and then, finally, his abrupt withdrawal from the scene, shattering whatever spell had been cast over us. What did it mean? He couldn't possibly... no... could he? What had he been thinking? I wondered with a hint of frustration, my thoughts full of doubt and disbelief. What was I thinking?

I touched my cheek again, finding a fresh stream of blood following my jawline. After killing the one who had given me this cursed wound, Antoinetta Marie, I had almost immediately left the Sanctuary to come to Lucien's own sanctum- I wished to put the Purification behind myself as quickly as I could, to allow myself to move forward with the smallest amount of grief and mourning possible. As I had exited the well and made my way to the city gate, I felt the eyes of a dark-haired man who was standing across the town square upon me- at first I was alarmed, but then I realized my cheek was still bleeding (despite the healing spell I had cast to assuage my wounds), and that was the reason his eyes had followed me.

My healing spell had worked on all of the other injuries, but my cheek had remained injured... my cheek... I raised my hand to it again, and as I touched the wound a memory flashed violently throughout my thoughts without warning- Antoinetta's face after slicing my skin, full of loathing and triumph- and I found myself almost physically staggered. How long would this go on? I wondered in anguish. How often would I be haunted with the memories of my most heinous, my most painful, act?

For as long as you let yourself, a voice in the corner of my mind spoke. It was dark and menacing, but also cool and comforting, and I felt my body starting to calm as it spoke again- It will effect you only for as long as you let it effect you- you are in control… I felt my mind clear, and I listened to that voice- it was so soft, so intelligent, so enigmatic… and I felt that everything would turn out for the good, if I just listened to the voice... My thoughts returned to my cheek, but no flash of Antoinetta came this time.

I was still pondering what Lucien had meant about injuries that could not be cured when he returned, a sealed container held delicately in his cupped hands. He came to a halt in front of me and opened it without a word, placing the clay top down on the table. Remaining silent, he dipped two fingers into the substance that lay within the bowl and raised them to my cheek, his eyes intent upon his task- and nothing else. I saw that there was no expression in his gaze, only that of a man at work upon something broken.

There was something different about him, something that I couldn't quite place- a change in the way he stood... it was much more rigid, and proper. His movements were very deliberate, as though he was careful about each and everything he did. And finally his eyes- they were empty, devoid of any emotion, so unlike just moments before. What was going on? I asked myself again.

“There you go,” he said, his hand leaving my cheek. He wiped his fingers on the side of the bowl, letting excess salve drip back into the rest before putting the top back on. “This is probably the most helpful thing one could do to prevent scarring- at least for a wound of this nature.”

“Thank you,” I said, looking him straight in the eye- he nodded, yet his eyes did not meet mine. Instead, they seemed to be directed at a point just above my hairline. Before I could say anything, however, he spoke first.

“Would you like a glass of wine?” he asked, gesturing towards the table where a few bottles lay. I had a flash of Gogron, holding up a bottle of ale and grinning ruefully as he suggested a drinking game- but no! I couldn't think of that... I couldn't put myself through that...

Lucien was watching my reaction curiously, so I simply shook my head in declination, turning my attention back to him. He did not pour himself a glass either, instead beginning to speak again, his voice confident and clear- as though reciting a rehearsed speech.

“Sithis has been appeased, and the time has come to acknowledge and reward your unwavering loyalty. The Black Hand is most pleased with your progress. You have been invited to share in secrets that few within the Dark Brotherhood even know exist. Your life in the Sanctuary is over- those contracts are behind you.”

I looked at him, confusion in my eyes- what other life was there for the Dark Brotherhood? I had never heard of any work, besides that of couriers, and the Speakers and Listener – that took place outside of a Sanctuary's walls. He seemed to ignore my gaze and continued on.

“Now, you will serve the Black Hand. You will serve... me.” I felt my heart beat wildly in my chest, my breath short- I saw him swallow deeply and his jaw muscle tighten before he continued , his voice sounding a bit strained, as though he was finding it difficult to keep his tone devoid of any and all emotion.

“From this moment forward, you will walk the shadows as my Silencer. You will receive contracts only from me. Your new life has begun.”

He looked at me expectantly, fondly- as though watching a proud creation. For I was his- he was in possession of me, I was under his control; and we both felt it.

But all I could do for a moment was stare blankly back. What in the name of Chaos was I supposed to say to that? My mind was racing with questions, from why Lucien was acting so strangely, so distant, to what life outside the Sanctuary would be like. His constant switch of personalities, from an intense, passionate and desirable man to cold-hearted, emotionless Speaker- what did he want from me? And, more importantly, what did Iwant? I found it difficult to concentrate on his words; however, he seemed quite insistent that I be the one to speak next, so eventually I found it in me to pose a question.

“But... but what must I now do?”

“It is quite simple, really,” he replied, his tone businesslike. “No longer will you receive orders directly. Instead, you will visit dead drop locations scattered throughout Cyrodiil. Your next contract can be found at the dead drop on Hero Hill, southeast of here. A hollow in the moss-covered rock contains all you need to know.”

I wondered why we would not be speaking about the contract- why go through the trouble of writing out letters when it could easily be exchanged through conversation? I was about to ask this, but he continued to speak, his voice steely.

“When you leave here, we will not speak again, unless I deem it necessary.” His eyes were cold, hard, and unwavering- and I looked at them in dismay. Never to speak again? We were not to see each other, unless he deemed it 'necessary'? What the blazes did that mean? He was all I had left! As I felt my eyes widen with despair, I thought once again of our earlier encounter- was that why he was pushing me away? What was he playing at?

“I will do whatever you ask of me,” I said, my voice hollow, raising my eyes to his.

As soon as our eyes met I could see within them a conflict arising, and he drew his gaze from mine after an instant of contact. He started to seem unsure, anxious even, about my reaction- and I saw that he was on the verge of saying something, teetering on the edge of oration. A moment passed, and suddenly he burst into speech, his words released in a rush- the light was back in his eyes.

“There is one last thing- I have for you a very special gift… Just outside there is a magnificent steed named Shadowmere; she has served me well, but I present her now to you, as a token of my trust and-” our eyes met, a shock like lightening- “...love.”. I felt a shock wave run down my spine and low into my stomach at his words. Love? His eyes were intense, a fire that was not of anger burning within them, and I felt a similar flame ignite within my own.

But then Lucien drew back, stepping towards the table to pour himself a glass of wine. I lowered my eyes and pursed my lips slightly as I saw him raise the goblet to his lips, taking a sip of the liquor. Calmed by his words- words that had restored my faith in his confidence and... love for me- I was silent for a moment, trying to collect my thoughts, for it was obvious that he wanted to return to business again.

“Your silencer?” I finally asked, sighing. He paused, the glass halfway to his lips, and placed it back down on the table before beginning.

“The Black Hand is the Dark Brotherhood's ruling council. That hand consists of four Speakers and one Listener. Four fingers and a thumb, as it were,” he said, raising his left hand and spreading his gloved fingers, while I nodded.

“This you already know. What is not commonly known among our family members is that the Black Hand employs a few... additional numbers.” I raised an eyebrow at his slightly roguish expression.

“As every hand has fingers, does not every finger have a nail? A claw? A talon?” His voice was deep and eloquent as he lifted his right forefinger and slid it across the tips of his fingers on his raised left hand, slowly and deliberately pressing the fingernails that lay beneath the glove, his hands steady and perfectly controlled. I watched with transfixed eyes as he then started walk away from the table towards my left side, as though circling me, his eyes never leaving my face as he spoke.

“Every finger of the hand, every Speaker, has such a nail. These are the Silencers. Each Speaker employs his or her own private assassin, to extend their reach and strike forth as necessary. My previous Silencer perished while fulfilling a contract…” I had not moved a muscle as he had circled me, my eyes focused on the table in front of me. Lucien paused at my right side, and I could feel his body heat close behind me. My breath caught up in my chest as he leaned in closer, his lips very close to my ear, his hot breath upon the nape of my neck-

“…that emptiness has now been filled by you. It is an honor without equal,” he finished in almost a whisper, his voice husky. I felt a shiver down my spine, my body warming as shots of fire filled my soul; I felt my eyes shine with pride, love swelling up within my very heart. The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight as I could feel him smile. I bit my lip, a thrill rising up in my stomach; but then he pulled away, coming to stand in front of me again. There was a mischievous glint in his eye, and I could see that the enigmatic man I was accustomed to had returned, at least for now.

“Now go, and may Sithis guide you in this new stage of your life's dark journey,” he said, holding his hand out and gesturing towards the rope ladder. I looked him in the eye, holding his gaze for just a moment, before I finally willed my muscles to move again. The air felt thick and I found it difficult to draw myself from his presence- I saw his lips twitch at the corners at my expression as I turned and climbed up the ladder, and I felt his eyes hot upon my back until I had exited the trapdoor and was out of sight.

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Only after he had heard the dull metallic thud of the trap door shutting did Lucien let out the breath he had been holding- and not until he felt as though his lungs were empty of any and all breath did he inhale again. He closed his eyes as he did so, his eyebrows furrowed- but then his expression relaxed and his features softened, and a faint smile appeared. His licked his lips, thinking hard.

He had nearly lost control in the beginning, he knew- he had been very close, so close that he could not remember a recent instance like it. He had been irrational for a moment there- giving her Shadowmere?- but he knew that in the end he had been in full command of the situation. He had felt her longing in those final moments, he had sensed her desire- and it had pleased him in that he had created it, and also in that he could control his own passions.

For he could no longer deny the heat he felt when in her presence, the shivers that ran down his spine when their eyes met- and he could not deny what he had nearly let happen. He had felt the fire in his eyes, and had seen that same flame in hers. But he had almost let it consume him, let his desires control him past all thought and reason.

But what was wrong with it? He found himself asking. What was wrong with her? Nothing! Nothing was wrong with her… it was him. He could not let himself do this, it was wrong. She was his inferior, his Silencer… she was his…but for the very same reason, it wouldn’t be right. He could not let himself have anything more then a very cordial relationship with her. Or with anyone a snide voice in the back of his mind said. Which is what he had always intended for himself, it was what he liked! he thought forcefully.

But even in the dim light it was clear that his smile had faded.

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Only after the trapdoor had closed shut behind me and I had cleared the hollow tree did I take a deep, shuddering breath, a shiver running down my spine. That had been… interesting, to say the least. I remembered the feeling as his body moved in nearer to mine- I could almost still feel him so close to me, the heat from his breath upon my bare neck. I smiled as another shiver ran down my spine- but my smile fell as I remembered his withdrawal, the way he had pulled back, closing himself off. It had confused me, for I knew what I had seen in his eyes, in his body, in those moments… I wondered what he was thinking, if his thoughts were going to the same places that mine were…

As I made my way into the clearing outside the front entrance to Fort Farragut, my fantasies were pulled to a standstill as I lay my eyes upon the gift from Lucien. The most beautiful horse I had ever seen was standing majestically at the door, unbound by any rope but standing still, tall and proud- and almost… haughty, so like Lucien himself that I almost chuckled.

The mare was certainly larger and stronger then any other horse I had seen, and far more handsome. Her coat was the darkest black, the impeccable fur shimmering slightly in the fading sunlight. Her legs were strong and sturdy, and her back defined and lean. One could see that she would be able to carry a heavy load far and fast without growing weary with just one glance. Yet the most distinctive thing about this horse, this Shadowmere, was her eyes- for they were a glowing blood red, bright and intense. I walked closer, and as I held eye contact with the horse I got the clear impression that the mare understood me, that she comprehended far more then a horse should…

But I had not long to ponder this rather disconcerting notion- for suddenly I heard the distinct sound of approaching footsteps. Human footsteps. In an instant I was behind a pillar, my hand upon the ever-present dagger at my waist. I stared down the pathway leading out of the Fort, westward to Cheydinhal- there was definitely someone approaching, but I could tell that they were trying to remain stealthy by the way their steps sounded- light and calculated, slower and uneven. My mind instantly came up with a thousand theories on why someone could be sneaking up to the Fort- but the first one, the most prominent, was that they were here to assassinate Lucien Lachance; who was, after all, quite an infamous murderer. And I certainly wasn’t about to let that happen.

Staying close to the walls, I slid with my back against the stone to the entrance, listening carefully. Not wanting to risk sticking my head around the corner, which would be very exposed and rather stupid, I looked upwards- the next level of the fort looked stable, if a bit collapsed- but without further thought I leaped up softly and grabbed the ledge, my arms straining to lift my body up. I pulled my dark hood over my hair and crouched down below the low collapsed wall, peering over with sharp eyes. I spotted who I was looking for within seconds- a short man (presumably Bosmer), with auburn hair and dark eyes and dressed in leather greaves and a hunter’s shirt, was approaching. There was a lethal looking dagger at his waist and an expensive quiver and bow upon his back. Just by the way he moved one could tell that he was certainly assassin material… and the manner in which his eyes darted around, always aware and ready to react to any small movement, only confirmed my suspicions.

He had not noticed my presence, so I dropped back down under the cover of the wall and drew my dagger as the blood started to rush to my head. The man was close, about to walk under the archway into the Fort- I prepared myself, crouching lower, my eyes intent upon my target. As soon as I felt his presence directly beneath me I tensed my muscles- and an instant later I sprang, dropping down from above and landing on the man’s broad shoulders. The man let out a cry of surprise and anger as we tumbled to the ground. I felt him trying to fight back beneath me, his assassin reflexes at work- but I had my dagger at his throat before he could make a move, his short arms pinned under my leg and held down by my own other arm. Luckily for me, the man was even smaller then I was- for if it had been otherwise I doubt I would have been able to keep him under my control.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” I hissed, my eyes livid. I looked at him expectantly but he was silent, so I pressed the dagger menacingly against his throat and he winced in pain. “Answer me quickly or die!” I spat out.

“I was just… I’m just a hunter, please, don’t hurt me!” the Bosmer exclaimed, his voice cracking and eyes darting about in fear. I had no doubt that he was lying.

“A hunter, eh?” I said slowly, the cynicism clear in my voice. I looked closer at his apparel, and noticed a leather shoulder bag. “If you’re a hunter-” I said scornfully “-then I should find skins in here, no?” He watched with wide eyes as I carefully removed my hand from his arms and slid it into the bag. I felt the round rolls of parchment without surprise- they were most likely assassination orders.

But when I pulled them out triumphantly and rotated the cylinders for a look at the seal, I saw something that I had not expected- for the seal was that of the Dark Brotherhood. I stopped in mid-motion, staring at the dark wax in alarm and bewilderment.

The man sensed my moment of distraction and exploited the weakness, leaping upwards and shoving my body off of his. I fell off of him, dropping the parchment to the ground. Before I had time to react he had snatched my dagger from my grasp, swinging it threateningly towards me. He was quick- but also, in an odd way, clumsy. His hands shook and jerked almost spasmodically at any movement I made. He was still a slight threat, however, when he had the higher ground.

And so without thought and through pure instinct I rolled backwards, slipping my hand to my leg where my hidden throwing knife rested, while I avoided his attack. I was on my feet with my knife ready before the Bosmer could draw back; I struck forward and sliced, just a thin line of blood appearing against his right index finger. He cried out and I knocked the dagger from his grasp, catching it in my spare hand.

He started to back away but I raised my leg and kicked him square in the chest, sending him falling back into the stone wall. I pinned him there with my dagger against his throat once again, smiling slightly at the expression of indignation and fury upon his delicate features. I was still for a moment, breathing hard- but after a moment I had regained my composure, and I returned his look of hatred with one of cold irony. I leaned in close to his ear and spoke, my voice soft.

“We have the same Mother, you and I.”

His body instantly went still, his muscles rigid- I looked him in the eye, and I knew he could see the truth in them. I slowly pulled back my dagger upon his neck and held my hands up, showing I meant no harm. And as I leaned back my hood fell completely from my face and my hair blew back in the wind, and the Bosmer, looking deep into my eyes, seemed to come to a sudden realization.

“You- you’re Adrienne!” he sputtered. There was fear in his voice.

“How do you know this? Who are you?” I asked harshly, my surprise coming out as anger as I took a quick step forward. He fell back against the wall away from me, his body stiff.

“I’m- I’m Aengoth,” he replied hastily, stuttering a bit. “I’m a courier for- for the Dark Brotherhood.” I ground my teeth.

“Yes, I have gathered that much- but how do you know of me?” I asked again, the impatience evident in my voice.

“Ah… I work for Lucien Lachance most of the time- and… well… “ he trailed off, and averted his eyes from mine.

“Well, what? Spit it out!” I said, getting frustrated. He visibly started, breathing quickly.

“Yes, yes of course- well I share blood with… with Telaendril. We're c-cousins.”

I felt all my muscles freeze up, a dull sensation of detachment descending throughout my body. Telaendril… My vision blurred until I no longer saw the scene before me, for I was somewhere else very different- behind a stone wall, the air thick with rain, an arrow ready to let fly…

It will only effect you as long as you let it!

I shook my head, focusing on Aengoth once again. He had pushed forward from the stone a bit, watching me with perplexity and wariness. I stepped back, my eyes cold.

“Telaendril?” I repeated, slightly questioning. “Then you know…” I trailed off, but he only lowered his eyes and nodded. Ah- well that explained why he feared me so.

And I lowered my eyes as well, working on pushing my thoughts far from the Purification. I looked at Aengoth again, at his guise as a hunter… when I was suddenly struck by something- didn’t couriers of the Dark Brotherhood wear dark robes and hoods, like the Speakers? But then I was confused- where had I heard that before? I thought back to conversations in the Sanctuary, at passing words with Teinaava, Vicente, Telaendril… but I could not place where I had gotten that notion of courier uniforms; until I looked at the scroll of parchment still upon the ground. It all snapped into place then as a memory of Ocheeva, handing me a roll of parchment with a heading of...

The Black Horse Courier! The issue after I had killed Adamus Phillida, that detailed my near-capture. It had spoken of a man rescuing me at the last moment, a man hooded and cloaked in the darkest black- and according to Teinaava and Ocheeva, that man had been a Dark Brotherhood courier.

“If you are a courier, why do you not wear a cloak or hood?” I asked Aengoth suspiciously, eyeing his dusty garb. He looked at me quizzically.

“Why would I dress like that?” his tone a bit indignant. “Couriers are supposed to travel freely, to blend in with the crowd- it wouldn’t be sensible to run around in a black cloak if that’s what you’re aiming for.” He spoke with more confidence- he seemed more comfortable with my presence now that he realized I wasn’t going to slice his throat where he stood.

“You mean… there are no couriers that dress way?” I said, my voice hesitant. He nodded slowly before speaking.

“I am sure they would never- most of us are respected members of society, and we wouldn’t want to tarnish that useful reputation with such dubious outfitting. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if only the Speakers still dressed that way, and even of those only a few.”

Just Speakers? My mind replayed that line over and over. Just the Speakers…Lucien was a Speaker. Could that mean…? I recalled Teinaava’s and Ocheeva’s odd behavior when they told me of a courier who had saved me, how I had felt that they were not being truthful… could they have known? What did this mean? How-

“Could… could I go now?” My thoughts were interrupted and I looked at the wood elf, who was inching towards his fallen scrolls of parchment and leather shoulder bag. “I am in a bit of a hurry…” he added, as he leaned down to pick up his bag- though his eyes never left me.

“Yes, yes- go ahead,” I replied, waving my hand indifferently as he nodded and made his way hastily to the entrance to Fort Farragut.

I walked slowly towards Shadowmere, my mind racing. It had to have been Lucien, he must have been there, seen my fall, and been the one to save me. But why? Could it be true? Things that I had dismissed as preposterous not so long ago were suddenly flooding back into my thoughts; and this time I let them stay there, churning in the unstable waters that was my mind. And as I pulled myself up onto the high back of Shadowmere, I remembered his mesmerizing stare as I left, and his words “…we will not speak again, unless I deem it necessary…”- and I had a feeling that that meeting would be sooner then I had imagined.

But for now, Lucien had given me a task. Taking one last glance at my map, locating “Hero Hill” and memorizing a route, I nudged the mare forward with a click of my tongue. I had work to do.

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The moon was high in the sky and the air thick with night when Lucien stepped into the Cheydinhal city border. Tonight would be a long night for him, he knew- for when he had told Adrienne that the Ritual of Descent would be “taken care of”, he had not been merely comforting her. The Ritual would be performed, and by no other then himself. He could have, of course, ordered it done by his inferiors; but he had to pay his last respects to the members of the Sanctuary, to those he had known for many years. They deserved it- well, at least most of them did, he added as an afterthought.

Lucien Lachance made his way easily to the well behind the Abandoned House, sending a last furtive glance at his surroundings before slipping into the grate, noticed by none. About halfway down the ladder, he suddenly became aware that the rungs were not only moist with well condensation- he pulled a hand away and found the scarlet hue of blood still upon his fingers. Someone had climbed up with blood on their hands, and recently, he deduced.

He dropped down the remaining way, landing on the slick floor with practised ease. He turned about and was met with a gory sight indeed. Lucien swallowed hard as he walked to the center of the room, looking at the bodies of Teinaava and Ocheeva. They lay together, hands almost clasped they were so close, their blood pooled together in one dark puddle of crimson. They had died together…

And suddenly Lucien eyes saw not their bodies, not their blood, not the Sanctuary walls- and he was somewhere else, somewhere from far and long ago…

Lucien strode down the dark hallway purposefully, his dark eyes flickering in the candlelight. The place was old and rotting, and smelled of dead fish- but at least he was inside now, and not outside in the blatsted swamps. Damn the Black Hand! He thought furiously. Damn them for choosing him for this assignment!

He was still very new to the guild, and had been thoroughly surprised when he had been selected for this. Despite his young age, they had told him his selection had been based off of his charm, and manipulative powers. He was asked to train a quartet of Shadowscales in the continent of Argonia, and then to bring over the pair that showed the most promise to the teachings of the Dark Brotherhood. But his experience in “Black Marsh” had not been favorable so far, and he already found himself detesting the massive swamp land.

He continued on, his mood growing sourer by the minute. Of course it’s the last door, he thought darkly as the floor beneath him dissolved into poorly kept dirt. He slid his finger tenderly along the blade of the small throwing knife concealed in his opposite sleeve, stopping the pressure just before he felt it break skin.

As he drew close to the final door he slowed, stepping more silently and cautiously. He could see candlelight flickering inside, and with a half view through its entrance he could make out the indistinct shadows of several figures. If his information had been correct, there would be four of them. Four Argonians. Lucien was creeping starting to move towards the door again he could overheard voices resonating from within.

“So what’s the name of this guy again?” A male voice, raspy and slightly disdainful.

“His name is Lucien Lachance, and I‘ve told you that at least a dozen times,” a female voice responded chidingly.

“I just can’t seem to remember such a bland, typical Imperial name,” the same male voice replied, and three sets of chuckles broke out. “I mean c’mon, what’s the Court playing at, giving us an Imperial instructor?” the voice continued, elated with the encouragement of laughter.

“It’s a well-known fact that all Imperial men are fat, spineless sweet-talkers who couldn’t sneak up on a drunken orc!” As Lucien started to fume, two voices started laughing uproariously, but the female who spoke before rang above their rancor.

“Says Teinaava, the one who awoke the infamous snorer, Master Three-Claw, when you tried to snatch ale from his secret stash! You’re more clumsy then a drunken orc!”

The laughter continued as Lucien felt his blood starting to simmer- he had half a mind to barge in and ruin their little party, but he felt he could have a bit more fun with it…

He slipped a ring from his inner pocket, fitting his finger into it with the air of repetition. Had someone been watching Lucien at that moment, they certainly wouldn’t be anymore- for he had vanished completely. Smirking slightly to himself, he started to make his way slowly to the door, silent as the twilight…

“…I am most certainly not clumsy!” It seemed that Teinaava was standing in the center of the room, a candle to each of his sides acting almost like a spotlight as he spoke. There were four armchairs surrounding him, three of which were filled- two females and a male in the seats.

“I’m quicker than a mountain lion!” Teinaava exclaimed, poking at the female closest to him and drawing away quickly.

“Brother, I’m warning you…” the Argonian started to rise from her chair, her face amused but determined- Teinaava started to scamper away, and took a step back… into Lucien, whose dagger was around the Argonian’s throat before he could move a muscle.

He stepped forward, pushing the stunned Argonian with him into the light. The others had frozen, taken completely by surprise, and were watching with wide eyes. The girl who had started to rise was frozen half-way between her chair and standing, and seemed unsure of which way to go.

Lucien reveled in the panic and disarray he had caused for a instant before he leaned forward slightly, speaking softly but distinctly into the Argonian’s ear. “Couldn’t sneak up on a drunken orc, eh?” He slid his knife back into its hidden sheath and pushed the Argonian forward in one smooth motion. “So what does that make you?”

Another moment of shocked silence followed, in which Teinaava turned about wildly to look at his attacker. His expression was indignant and flabbergasted, and Lucien felt his own features twisting slightly into a self-satisfied smirk. The spell of silence was broken when the female Argonian rose completely from her chair, a grin breaking on her face.

“So you must be Lucien, then?” she said amiably, offering a hand. “I’m Ocheeva, sister to that idiot over there,” she gestured to Teinaava. “And nicely done, he needed that,” she said, laughter in her eyes as Lucien returned the handshake.

“I’m Scartail, and by blessings of the Nine I’ve got no relation to those two,” came forward the other male, a smile also upon his face. Lucien shook his hand as well, and turned back to find Teinaava standing very close to him. The Argonian stuck his hand out, eyes stubborn.

As soon as Lucien’s touched him, the Argonian twisted his own hand and tried to whip Lucien’s arm around and therefore diabilitate him- but the Imperial had been expecting this, and he retaliated with his superior strength and spun the outraged Shadowscale back around so his back was against Lucien, who had drawn his knife and put it against his scaled throat once more.

“Quick as a mountain lion, eh Teinaava?” Lucien asked, while the others roared with laughter. He released the Argonian, who rubbed his neck with a pained look.

“That hurt!” he exclaimed.

“Oh, stop your whimpering,” the second girl scolded, tapping him roughly on the head before coming forward into the circle. “I’m Mee-sai,” she said, offering her hand delicately as the others continued to chuckle at the scandalized expression on Teinaava’s face...

…The laughter was still ringing throughout Lucien’s mind as he drew his thoughts away from the scene. That had been so long ago… his first meeting with the twins. They had been like family to him, even more so then the Brotherhood relationship had provided them with. But things had changed, and now they were what they were…

And he thought of the final Argonian, Mee-Sai. She had gone on to become a ruthless assassin for the Argonian Royal Court, along with her lover, Scar Tail. Last year, however, Lucien had received word of her death. Apparently she had assassinated a duke’s daughter in Skyrim, and the enraged father had hunted her down and kill her with his bare hands. The effect on Scar Tail had been disastrous- he had always questioned the art of assassination the most, and this event had been the grain of rice to tip the scale. He had fled from the Court, forsaking his duty, and became an outlaw on the run. His fate had been left the hand of Adrienne, Lucien knew…

Thinking of her drew his mind back to his current task, and his shook his head slightly. He had no time to let his thoughts wander. Tearing his gaze from the twins, he started to investigate the rest of the room. As he looked to his left he noticed something he hadn’t seen before.

Laying in the corner across from the well was a black heap- a body with a bloody stump. He moved closer, instantly intrigued, and quickly found the head. A blonde woman, the remnants of an eye still dripping down the face of the late Antoinetta Marie. Lucien now no longer had any question as to who had sliced Adrienne’s face. He moved closer towards the puddle of blood her body had created, and was surprised when he saw something else in its scarlet waves.

Footprints, two sets- one smaller, more feminine, but the other was distinctly male. He remembered the blood on the ladder, and how he had been sure that Adrienne wouldn‘t have been clumsy enough to leave it there… Lucien was curious, for he was getting the feeling that someone had been down here before him, and it wasn’t Adrienne. He thought for a moment, a realm of possibilities entering his thoughts- but then suddenly an answer occurred to him- Aengoth. The courier.

He had noticed that the courier had seemed more shook up then was normal, and his beloved cousin had been Telaendril… maybe he had come to view her body? To pay his last respects? He assumed the Bosmer could be daft enough to do so- he had known him before he’d been assigned the task of courier, and had not forgotten Aengoth’s rather clumsy nature. That would explain his mood, and the blood…

Lucien nudged Antoinetta’s head with his foot, rolling it back grotesquely toward the body with a slight smile upon his face. He could only imagine the fury Adrienne must have been in she had done this (and he could not blame her, for he‘d always found Antoinetta to be an incessant nag). He felt a shiver run down his spine and found himself half-wishing he had been there to witness it…

But he turned from Antoinetta's corpse then, stepping back into the center of the room. He looked around the empty, silent halls that had once been his home, and he felt a stab of sorrow for those who had died here, for Adrienne, and for himself. But then it was gone, and he was making his way to Vicente's room, where he was sure he would find the body of the vampire.

He had to move quickly if he wanted to finish by sunrise, Lucien reminded himself. He too had a lot of work to do.



Author's Note: First off, yes, I realize in game Teinaava told the player that he and Ocheeva met Lucien when they were hatchlings- but I didn't realize that until I had written this entire passage, so let's just pretend they said “when we were adolescents” xD

[Lord Revan]

If only one thing could be said about your story, I would have to comment on how elaborate your discriptions are. It's very easy to imagine what Adrienne and Lucien are thinking and doing. You are a great addition to Chorrol, allshallfade!

[Priest of Sithis]

Dude, Allshallfade is my friend Revan, BACK OFF!

Dude, Allshallfade, I love your story so much more than Revan does, like totally alot more.

(LOL)

[Lord Revan]

Hate to break it to you, POS, but allshallfade is a girl, lol.

Anyway, I won't get into a "whose the greater friend contest."

[The Metal Mallet]

Excellent update! You could literally feel the tension and slight awkwardness between Lucien and Adrienne as they battle with their feelings for each other. That flashback was quite amusing as well.

You're still going strong! Keep it up.

[allshallfade]

Hey now, we can all be friends! And yea, I'm a girl POS

And thanks Metal Mallet- I had a lot of difficulty writing their interactions, and I'm more then estatic that you enjoyed it!

Thanks again for the great reviews, they mean so much

[Priest of Sithis]

Uhm, duh, I knew that. I call everyone dude.

And no, we can't all be friends. Revan, *slaps face with white glove*, I challenged you to a pistol DUEL! At high noon tomorrow, I won't be there, but it is the thought that counts!

[Lord Revan]

*A storm cloud blocks the Sun* I think we can be friends, Priest. *A lighting bolt hits the ground a few feet away*

Normally, people don't call girls dude. Anyway, let's keep this civil...... otherwise I'll be forced to retaliate..... painfully!

This post has been edited by Lord Revan: Aug 23 2007, 01:58 AM

[Priest of Sithis]

O rly?

I think we need to create our own dueling ground in the General Discussion and stop wasting Allshallfade's time and energy, saying, "Look a new post! Oh, its just that stupid Priest and that Revan guy wasting my time!"

We shall have a Battle Royal! Invite your allies, Priest flies SOLO!

[Lucidarius]

What a story. I especially like the thoroughness of your details (for atmosphere) and your character's interaction with others. The reasoning behind who to kill and in what order made the WhoDunIt exciting. I also enjoyed your mixed perspectives: To delve into Lucien's mind sometimes add further interest.

You are adept at weaving a story that hooks the reader and makes us long for the next installment. The Dark Brotherhood storyline is itself full of interesting characters and a nice twist, but you expand on it and make it much more personal and engrossing than just playing the game.

[allshallfade]

Wow... I think this is the longest I have ever gone without an update- and I've gone pretty long in the past. I just want to apologize profousely to those who have waited so long for the next update, and especially to those who have sent me messages of encouragement. They really mean a lot! Things have been crazy lately, and as much as I want to work on this story all the time, real life seems to always get in the way.

Well, this chapter was supposed to include much more content, but it was getting ridiculously long and I figured I had a fairly good place to stop and I could finally post a chapter for all of the loyal readers out there! I hope you guys enjoy, and I can't wait to hear what you think of it. I think it may be a bit dull, but I promise the next chapter will have a lot more action! And now, without further ado, I present to you....


Chapter 20: A Flair for the Dramatic

I did not realize that my gift from Lucien was no ordinary horse until about a week after I left Fort Farragut. Finding the lair of the Necormancer I'd been assigned to kill in my first Dead Drop had been much harder then anticipated, so the going had been slow and I hadn't let the horse really get into a free gallop until after disposing of the target. But when I finally let her loose on the road towards Chorral, to say that I fell from my seat in astonishment would be no exaggeration... but it certainly would be an embarrassment. Shadowmere ran faster than any other creature I had ever encountered, so much that I would not be surprised if she could outrun even the deadly mountain lion. But once I became acquainted with the drastic speed changes and playful but dangerous buckings and prancings, riding Shadowmere was a thrill rivaled by few.

And I was experiencing this thrill as the horse and I barelled down the Black Road towards Chorrol, the morning sun orange above the mountain peaks and the night fog creeping back into the dark recesses of the forest around us. We came up over the crest of a hill and I could feel myself becoming more intuitive with the horse as I merely thought of slowing and Shadowmere immediately responded, her gait dropping to a steady trot. I reined her into the fenced area, dismounting and giving her an affectionate pat on the heavily muscled stomach before turning and closing the gate behind me.

No one was about in the early morning, so I felt safe simply dropping down in the grass next to the corral and stretching out, loosening my stiff muscles. I had not slept in over a day, and it was starting to catch up with me. I was not fond of Chorrol, but I really needed the rest- so I decided to get my reward money and next set of orders, and then to procure a room at the inn and sleep until nightfall, when I would proceed to set out to wherever Lucien had sent me next.

My eyes turned to Shadowmere as I thought of Lucien, and his words as he had given her to me- a token of his trust... of his love. I smiled, watching Shadowmere as she walked up to another grazing black mare and sneered viciously at her, eyes gleaming red. The mare responded with a whinney of alarm, dancing away on fearful legs as Shadowmere gave a snort of triumph and leaned down to claim the newly vacated patch of grass as a prize.

I was thinking pleasant thoughts- of my contract, the blood I had recently spilt (and would, with luck, soon be spilling), my new horse, of Lucien- and was finding myself starting to drift off to sleep...

But suddenly a sound in the distance awoke me. A horse was approaching, and quickly. Relaxation over, I awoke reluctantly and stood up wearily, gazing out over the hill, A man with black hair astride a white horse was approaching quickly- when he saw me, however, he slowed to a near stop, eyes wide. I felt a sharp stab of a recognizition from him, and also in myself, but the man bowed his head and the flash was gone. I was a bit alarmed, but I tried to act natural as I made my way into the city gates, not daring to turn back in the fear that he had identified me. It was something I had to be more wary of in my growing infamy...

The strange incident was thrown from my mind completely, however, once I stepped into the city. Chorrol was a rich place, of that there was no doubt- for it was evident, from the buildings to the people, that everything and everyone was wealthy- and not afraid to show it. I despised the people who devoted their lives to earning as much money as possible, and then doing nothing useful with it except to show it off with the latest fashions and most expensive accessories. They based their worth in life off of materialistic, useless things, and it disgusted me.

Face set in a permanent scowl, I made my way to the town center where the Great Oak lay- for Lucien's last letter had said my next dead drop would be located in a small satchel by the tree. The city was starting to wake up, and when I arrived at the Oak the hustle and bustle of a new day was just beginning. Shopkeepers had opened their doors, the Guildhalls were experiencing traffic in and out, and street vendors and beggars were setting up their corners.

The area around the Great Oak was popular, for locals and for travelers, and so the area was clogged with people by the time I reached it. I could feel my scowl deepen and my eyes narrow even further as I neared the stone circle where the tree lay. I looked into the dirt and shrubberies surrounding it, searching for the sack that held my reward, and further word from Lucien. I circled the tree while trying to look as inconspicuous as possible, finally finding what I was searching for on the far side. I stopped dead, one eyebrow arched.

The sack was deep within the circle, right up against the base of the great tree. And that was quite far from the outer rim. To reach it I would probably have to put my entire body up on the stone and reach towards it- hardly a normal action, and certainly something that would draw attention to myself, and that was the last thing I needed- the Legion was very much still on the lookout for Adamus Phillida's killer. What had Lucien been thinking when he had put it there?

I glared at the sack again, grinding my teeth in irritation, and then turned about, hoping to find a time or angle at which no one would notice my recovery it- but it was in vain, for there was a constant tide of people, and directly across from where I stood there was a large manor, and at the door a constant guard stood posted.

He was a small man, a Breton by the looks of it- and he looked quite awkward in the heavy iron armor he was trying to sport. I knew he would not move from his post until nightfall most likely, and so I knew I would not be getting my new orders until then as well. The last thing I needed was someone involved in the law noticing odd behavior from a woman with black hair and icy blue eyes...

The guard seemed to have felt someone watching him, and his eyes found mine inquisitively- I put all the frustration and hatred I had in me at that moment into my returning stare, and his eyes widened slightly before he dropped his gaze and shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore my murderous glare. Giving a snort of derision at his weakness, I too looked away, turning this time to glower at the little satchel- it was so close, yet so far from my grasp...

And with infinite frustration, I put my back to the Great Oak and walked down the cobbled street, kicking loose stones with destructive pleasure as I made my way to the Oak and Crossier Inn.

* * *

I slept soundly after grudgingly paying for my (obscenely expensive) room, my dreams filled with the symphany of frantic pleas for mercy and tortured screams, of the strike of a dagger and the spilling of blood; the beautiful and unparalleled notes of the orchestration of death. When these pleasurable notes had fully echoed out of my mind, and the comparably dull sounds of waking life had completely returned, I found that the view from my window was dark and the streets were empty. I threw open the shutters fully to behold the quiet city, taking in a deep breath of the crisp night air.

I would kill tonight. I could smell the scent of blood in the air already, my nostrils flaring with pleasure at the thought. I smiled, closing my eyes and fully soaking in the pre-kill anticipation for a moment before slowly closing the shutters and stepping back from the window. It was time.

I changed into a flax tunic and slipped into my tight black pants, pulling on my leather boots. In a matter of moments I had packed my saddlebags, tying the unique and complex knots that kept them securely closed with speed and precision. I made my way out of the inn and up the cobbled street without encountering a soul- everyone had found a bed and was sleeping soundly, it seemed. It was perfect. The silence, the stillness, the dark- my elation was only growing as I drew closer to the Great Oak.

When I came up the hill and walked into the circle, the difference from my last visit was instantly noticeable- and appreciated. The area was quiet and desesrted, the only sound a soft breeze rustling the expansive branches of the Great Oak. However, I did not waste anymore time feeling grateful for the welcome change for I was far too eager to read my next letter from Lucien. I jumped lightly up onto the circle surrounding the tree and bent down, scooping the heavy satchel into a cradling hand. I smiled at the soft sound of clinking gold it made, weighing the hefty bag in my palm. It took all my self control not to open it on the spot, but I realized that it would make more sense to get out of the city first.

And so I made my way out of the citygates and to the horse corral, brimming with anticipation. My thoughts were entirely focused on the cloth sack in my hand, and the letter I knew lay within. The gold was inconsequential. I stopped underneath the lantern at the horsekeepers cottage and leaned against the wall, sliding my back down against it until I was comfortably seated beneath the soft glow of flickering light. Shadowmere, who had been lounging at the far end of the corral, stood up and trotted over towards my spot. A white horse that had been grazing near me pranced away in fear as Shadowmere approached, and the black mare snorted almost derisively. As she drew in close she leaned over the edge of the fence and nudged my face with hers, whinnying softly. I patted her affectionately before untying the cloth satchel, peering into its contents eagerly.

My reward was there (the customary 500 septims), along with a sealed letter. I carefully slipped it open, Lucien's familiar wax seal design remaining intact. I smiled slightly when I saw its considerable length, and began to read the elegant script with a breath of excitement.


My Dearest Silencer,
The Necromancer Celedaen is dead, and you are not. That is quite an accomplishment. But your work as my Silencer has just begun.
Your next assignment requires you to eliminate not just one target, but several- an entire family, in fact. These unlucky siblings are Matthias Draconis, Andreas Draconis, Sibylla Draconis and Caelia Draconis...

I paused a moment, looking up at Shadowmere's scarlet eyes with an expression of perplexion and slight alarm. Could it be? Draconis? My free hand shot to a pocket on my saddlebag, where I could feel the slight imprint of a folded up piece of parchment. I kept reading, my eyes widening at the next lines.

...Sound familiar? It should, my dear, it should- for they are the children of one Perennia Draconis, an old woman who in life resided on a small farm to the North, near Bruma. That farm's name was Applewatch- the cottage where we first met, as you may recall...

I looked away from the letter again, a dull throbbing echoing throughout my mind as my eyes looked at something far away... and long since past... My first meeting with Lucien. I had been so naiive, so young, so... well, maybe not quite innocent, I chided myself with a roguish grin- but far more innocent then I was now. Yet my smile quickly faded as I thought further back- I had not known pain, I had not known suffering, I had not known loss. So much had happened since that first meeting; Lucien had been my first acquaintance within the Brotherhood, and now he was my only one left. I had Shadowmere, and for that I was most grateful; but he was my only human companion. He was the only one I had left...

That thought echoed throughout my mind for a moment, and I suddenly felt numb. The only one. Lucien Lachance was my only acquaintance, the only person left with whom I even had conversation- and yet that was still all Dark Brotherhood related. He was such a dark figure, so cold; I remembered the fear I felt when I first met him. But, at the same time, how eager I had been to please him, to earn his respect and love. And I was still this way, I realized. I had devoted my life to the Brotherhood, and had given it everything- and everyone, it now seemed- that I had ever loved. Just as Scartail had predicted... but he was wrong. I still had the Black Hand. I still had the Night Mother and the Dread Father Sithis. I still had Shadowmere... and I still had Lucien.

With a slight shake of the head to clear my thoughts, I looked back at the letter. I had to understand why he was asking me to kill the family of my virgin murder, and what I must do to perform my duty with all the honor and precision possible...

Now you may be wondering why you have been asked to do this, because of your connection in the past. The reasoning is thus: the name Caelia Draconis may or may not be familiar to you, but it has become far too familiar to the Brotherhood. Since the rise of Adamus Phillida this woman's efforts to bring about the downfall of the Dark Brotherhood, the Thieves Guild, and other less substantial organizations of the same nature have been a significant cause of worry. She is quite well connected, and uses her powers of manipulation and coercion to easily obtain any information she may require. There is talk of her gaining a new and powerful position within the Legion; one that is specifically designed to root out nefarious groups and cults. It has also been rumored of a romantic connection between herself and Imperial Legion commander Giovanni Civello, the newly appointed replacement to Phillida.

And so this brings us back to your assignment- once again, we intend on sending a message of defiance and resilience to these Imperialist pigs. And this message, as is our way, will be in the form of murder. Kill each of Caelia's siblings, inform her of her great and profound loss, and then take her life as well. The locations of most of the family members are unknown at this time to the Brotherhood, but I'm quite certain that this will not be an issue for you...

My eyes widened at these words- he couldn't know, could he? My hand once again shot to the imprint on my saddlebag, this time slipping inside and pulling out the worn piece of parchment. I didn't open it, but rather stroked its faded side softly. How could Lucien know about this? I had carried it with me ever since that day where I had killed the old woman, but there was certainly not a time when Lucien could have seen it- I went over every interaction with him that I could recall, and was thoroughly confused- until suddenly everything made sense. He must have seen it during an interaction that I could not recall...

I now knew without a doubt that Lucien had been the one to whisk me out from under the law's nose during the Adamus Phillida contract. He had most likely saved my life; but why did he wish to keep it a secret? And what had he been doing there in the first place? How had he known to ready to help me? Had he been... watching me? I thought of his sudden change of attitude during our last meeting, and I wondered what it could possibly mean- for it certainly couldn't be where my thoughts first strayed...

Shaking my head once again, for I was thinking ridiculous thoughts, I turned back to the letter.


This act will make it clear to any who questioned our strength that we will not put up with their pathetic, meddlesome schemes any longer, and that we have the power to harm them greatly if necessary. We will eliminate an immediate threat and, in doing so, splash the ripples of uncertainty and pain into the waters of the law. Think of it as our belated coronation gift to the newly instated Giovanni Civello...

Once you have completed this task for me, for I have doubt that you will do so with honor and elegance, journey to the city of Skingrad. In the castle courtyard you will find a well, and inside of it a satchel containing your reward- but this time it shall not be in the customary form of gold. Instead it shall be a letter; and this letter will contain instructions leading to a certain location at a certain time, for I have deemed it necessary that we cross paths once again. We shall speak of your next contract, and any other matters that you may desire to discuss.

I am sure that you will complete this task for me with precision and poise, as is your way; and that you will not waste precious time before doing so, for I do look forward to our next meeting...

Walk always in the shadow of Sithis, guided by the tender hand of our loving Night Mother,

Lucien Lachance

I read the letter through a second time before the hand gripping it fell to my side, my body otherwise very still. There was so much to take in at once, I thought numbly. Lucien had indeed saved me from Phillida, and didn't want me to know about it. I would be killing the entire surviving family of my first kill, and I would be the one to deliver an important message of fear to the Imperial Legion- Lucien had chosen me for a most honorable contract once again.

And this last bit... a meeting? Just over a week ago he had been going on about how we would not meet unless it was “necessary”- but now this? What could make it “necessary” that we speak face to face? Was it something important involving the Brotherhood? Or... was it something else? Something very, very different...

But no- I couldn't think about that. What if I was simply comletely crazy, and misinterpreting the entire situation? But you know what you felt at your last meeting, a voice in the back of my head said. And there's no use denying it- you know he felt it too. You could see it in his eyes...

“It doesn't matter!” I exclaimed to myself, hitting the ground in frustration. Shadowmere whinnied in alarm at my sudden outburst, shaking her head in worry. I stroked her neck, touching her forehead to mine with closed eyes. I breathed deep, made sure I was in control of myself, my body and my emotions- and leaned back, picking up the two pieces of parchment again. I had work to do- I could worry about what came later after it was done.

I firmly pushed all stray thought into a deep recess of my mind, and forced myself to focus on the task at hand. Even though I knew it's contents by heart, I found myself unfolding the second piece of parchment- the one I had kept for so long.

Dear courier,
I would like to thank you again for agreeing to assist me. I was so delighted when a friend recommended you, and will certainly employ your services again in the future if everything goes well with this round of purchases. You can imagine how difficult it is for an old woman such as myself to get around. My children, darlings that they are, deserve the best, and I'm afraid I haven't been able to properly show my love and appreciation for them in quite a few years. But all that is behind me now! Here is the list of gifts I think my family would most enjoy, as well each child's current place of residence, which should be used to for delivery.
Matthias -- Talos Plaza District, Imperial City (he has a home there): Matthias always was a rough and tumble lad. The last I'd heard, he'd fallen in with some pretty tough characters there in the Imperial City working the night-shift as a guard for an Ayleid ruin dealer. I'd feel so much better if I knew he was well protected, so I'd like for you to find him a nice cuirass. Nothing too light -- iron or steel should be fine. And, if possible, I'd like it engraved with "To my Dear Matty, I'll always be here to protect you, love Mum."

Andreas -- The Drunken Dragon Inn on the Yellow Road to Leyawiin(he owns the place and lives there as well): Andy has been brewing his own beer and spirits since he was six years old. The opening of that inn was the happiest day of his life. I'd like for you to get him some new tavern glasses. I'm sure there are craftsmen in the Imperial City who could make a fancy set from frosted ebony or Altmeri crystal.

Sibylla -- Muck Valley Cavern. Yes, my daughter lives in a cave, and no, I'm not very happy about it. Sibby has always loved animals (almost as much as Andy loves beer) and a couple of years ago she apparently thought it a good idea to abandon the Empire and live as a savage with the rest of the animals. In that time, I'm afraid Sibby has kind of... cracked. She's basically as wild as the beasts she lives with. What can I do? I'm Sibby's mother and I'll always love her. She obviously doesn't want or need anything from civilized society, so what I'd like you to do is find a tanner and secure the largest fur blankets you can possibly find. The last time I saw Sibby she was nearly naked, and I can't imagine there's much in that cave to keep her warm. When you do bring them to Muck Valley Cavern, be careful! The wild animals are bad enough, but Sibby herself will probably attack anyone on sight.

Caelia -- Castle Leyawiin (you'll find her in the barracks): My beautiful Cae! My dearest daughter broke so many hearts when she was younger. But now that she's an officer in the Imperial Legion I'm afraid she's let herself go a bit. Not gotten fat! By Mephala, not that! But she's settled into a more... practical kind of look. Even a bit boyish, I guess you could say. So what I'd like you to do is get my Cae as much pretty "girl" stuff as you can. Flowers, perfume, Nord chocolate, that sort of thing.

You've already received half your fee in advance, and will receive the remainder after the gifts have been purchased and delivered, as we originally agreed. Thank you again for providing such a valuable service.

Sincerely,
Perennia Draconis

I marked the locations of each sibling on my worn map, trying to figure out the most logical route to reach all of them in the least amount of time. I had a lot of travelling ahead of me, I discerned with a certain grimness- the four very different siblings were all spread out across Cyrodiil, and I could only hope that none of their living arrangments had changed in the months since their mother's death, and my finding of the letter.

I looked up at the night sky- the moons had already past their highest point in the sky, and were starting their descent. If I road quickly, I could make my way to the Imperial City and catch Mattias before he got off of work, in the Talos Plaza district. I rose quickly, gathering up my parchment and saddlebags with a distant air- my thoughts were far ahead, already planning and anticipating my kills. The thrill of the hunt, a wave of lustful foreboding, was starting to consume my body and my mind was completely focused on my one immediate goal- to kill.

And so I readied Shadowmere for travel and leapt gracefully onto her back, reining her out of the corral and onto the road in a hasty gallop.

* * *

I arrived at the Imperial City just long before I had reckoned on- not even the first shimmer of the dawn light was on the horizon, and as I dismounted Shadowmere and made my way to the city gates I could hear the echo of four grand bell tolls from within. I smiled- it was still the night. I had known I was going to kill this night...

I knew the Talos Plaza District well- I had spent a good amount of my late teens pickpocketing and making petty thefts within its rich walls. I was fairly certain that I could figure out which house belonged to Matthias- but, more importantly, I was already sure of where he worked. The list said he was a bodyguard for an Ayleid ruin collector, and the only one of note in this district was an Altmer by the name of Umbacano.

His collections were vast and prolific, and worth an uncalculable sum- and therefore guarded by only the best money could buy. I had never dared step near his home boundary, and I doubt many others (who were interested in self-preservation, at least) had either. As far as I knew, however, the human guards were all either outside his doors or within the first level of his house- rumors went that far greater and dark creatures guarded his secret stores. I was hoping to find Matthias there, and kill him at his work, for it would be far less suspicious if he died while guarding expensive merchandise then if he died in his own home.

I ducked into an alleyway as I sighted the soft light of a torch, which regularly indicated a guard was approaching, and took a short-cut up into the plaza. I waited a moment before I poked my head out, chancing someone spotting me in the lamplight overhead- but I was relieved to find that there was no one about on the south side, and the guard I had just seen was making his way into the Temple District. I looked to the North side and smiled darkly- a lone Imperial stood at the heavy doors, donning a heavy cuirass and official air. I couldn't be sure, not yet; but this could be my man. I leaned back into the alleyway for a second, pressing my head against the cold stone.

My first inclination had been, of course, to kill him now where he stood, with a lovingly aimed arrow to the skull. I worked hard to constrain that instinct, however, and forced myself think rationally. This could be any old guard- I had no idea if it was the man I was looking for or not. But what could I do to be sure it was him? I could wait for him to return to his home... but I really wasn't in the waiting mood, I realized. My patience was worn thin from holding too many strong emotions and desires in, and I need to act on them- and soon.

Suddenly, a plan occurred to me. With a raise of an eyebrow, I pushed off of the wall and poked my head out quickly once again. Nothing had changed- the man still stood there and not another soul was about. And so I rubbed my hands vigorously through my hair and pulled my tunic askew, dropped my quiver and bow into a dark corner of the alley, hid my dagger in my boots- and let out a shrill, piercing scream.

I let it echo for a second before I kicked the stone around a bit, shoving against the wall to make as much noise as possible. I then let out another scream and stumbled out into the light, pretending to fall over in my haste to escape the alley. I let out a sob and forced my eyes to water, scrambling to stand up again. I looked up and saw that Matthias had drawn his sword and was eyeing me with suspicion. I started to stagger towards, letting out hiccuping sobs.

“Please!” I said, my voice cracking and tears cascading from my eyes. “Please, good sir, help me! I'm so- so scared...” I was mere feet from him now, and the suspicion had almost completely let his eyes and he had lowered his sword. I took that oppurtunity to throw myself into his arms, shaking and shivering for good measure.

“Shh, shh, it's alright now, you're safe- tell me, what happened miss?” he asked, patting the back of my head with one hand while his other still grasped his sword. His eyes were scanning the darkness where I had come from, evidently trying to sense if there was still a threat.

“A man... he-he-he... attacked me!” I sobbed.

He pulled back from the embrace and gripped my shoulders, looking me in the eye.

“A man? What did he look like? Where did he go?” he asked urgently, his body tense. I gave a show of looking alarmed before shakily responding.

“I... I couldn't see his face! It was too dark, and it all happened too fast! But I don't know where he went- when I ran away into the Plaza he disappeared!”

Matthias seemed to instantly relax, his shoulders slacking and his face softening.

“Well, he's most likely gone by now...” he said softly, more to himself then me. He looked me in the eye. “Did he take anything from you, or hurt you in anyway?”

“No... he tried to-to hurt me, but I had a dagger beneath my skirt and I pushed him away with it. I don't think I did much harm... but it was enough for me to escape,” I invented wildly. Matthias nodded solemnly.

“Damn these petty thieves... they're getting bolder and bolder everyday... but you were very brave,” he said reassuringly, and I smiled gratefully through my watered eyes. I had found it easy to cry, and for some reason I was now finding it rather hard to stop...

“I think... I think he saw you, and got scared,” I said, my voice full of admiration. He puffed out his chest slightly at my words.

“Yes'm, well...” he responded sheepishly. Inwardly I rolled my eyes- most people were just so pathetic... I was starting to get impatient with this, so I decided to push things along. He was about to speak, but I cut in quickly.

“So what is the name of my savior?” I smiled broadly, looking up at him expectantly. He looked flustered for a moment, but replied gruffly.

“Matthias, m'am. Matthias Draconis.” A fire inside my soul ignited when I heard his words, and I felt my hand make an involuntary jerk towards my hidden dagger, but I concealed it by pretending to smooth out my skirt. I needed to wait to get him back to Umbacano's home...

“Well thank you, Matthias. I am in your debt- but... do you think you do something else for me?” I looked hopefully at him with wide eyes.

“It would be an honor,” he replied, looking a bit taken aback.

“Do you think- do you think that I could get a cup of tea? It always calms me down, and I'm quite shaken up...”

“I suppose that could done, my lady,” he responded slowly. After another moment of consideration his face brightened. “The master has some of the best teas and brews in Tamriel!” he continued, turning toward the manor and gesturing for me to follow. “I'm sure that he won't mind, considering the circumstances... but better yet, he won't even know!” he gave me a smile. “It will be our little secret!”

I gave a little giggle while inwardly I was vomiting. He was so disgusting, so predictable, so repulsive! All I wanted was to take his life, to extinguish the flame of his soul with one great breath... I wanted to kill...

It was close now, so close... all I could think of was the searing of skin, the flowing of blood at my fingertips... I had to wait until we got inside...

We were almost at the steps of the huge home when something in me broke. I'm not quite sure what happened, but all I know is that I completely lost control. I'd focused every emotion of confusion, of hatred, of despair, of loneliness- and I had put it towards my lust for the kill. And it suddenly overwhelmed me, so much so that I could feel a fire burn throughout my veins- so hot that it needed to be released immediately or it could sear through my skin. He was on the third step, reaching for the thick iron handle on the door when suddenly he stopped, his eyes wide.

Before I had been able to put the slightest effort to stop myself, my hand had once again gone for my dagger- but this time drawing it and striking upwards, embedding itself in the flesh of his lower back with a crunch. I yanked to the side, splitting further. I had severed a section of his spine.

His body crumpled as I pulled my dagger back out, blood flowing freely from the laceration it left. He was conscious still, and looked up at me with confused, betrayed eyes. I was breathing hard, my mind just beginning to catch up with my body's actions. But when I finally realized what I had done, that I had just killed... I looked from my bloody dagger to his pained face and I began to shake silently with a mirthful laughter, lifting my head up to the light and closing my eyes, soaking in the scene. It was so beautiful, the blood, the pain, the coming rush of death...

My laughter escalated as I opened my eyes again and I looked down at Matthias groaning pathetically at my feet. A wonderful idea had just occurred to me... it would be so dark, so perfect...

I kneeled down beside him, my face close to his.

“The Night Mother is expecting you...” I whispered lovingly. I leaned over, placing my quivering hands on the leather straps that held his heavy cuirass in place. The excitement was making my very body shiver with anticipation. I started to slowly unbuckle the straps, watching his eyes widen in alarm. But he could do nothing- he seemed paralyzed, he could not move a muscle. He could only watch.

I removed the shoulder restraints and lifted the heavy plate of iron up, pulling it off of his body and letting it slide noisily down the stairs. I gave him one final smile before I drew up my dagger, letting it glisten in the moonlight. My eyes glowing an icy blue, I slowly lowered my blade to his chest, just beside his faintly beating heart. With a great intake of breath and a surge of ecstacy I pressed down, pushing the weapon deep past his ribcage.

He gave a guttural shout of pain as blood spurted from his breast, membrane and tissue spilling down his chest. He wheezed, breath becoming impossible, his eyes dimming. I could feel the death swiftly approaching, I could smell it in the air... and with a soft sound, much like a candle being extinguished, Matthias Draconis's life was snuffed out.

“But she'll be taking you without your heart, I'm afraid...” I said softly
.
The thrill still remained draining from my veins as I drew my dagger out and pressed it in on the other side of his heart, this time sawing slightly in a circular shape through the arteries and veins. After a moment of careful manipulation I had removed the section of rib cage and pried his heart free from its chamber. I lifted it up in my hand, its warmth fascinating and wonderful. Our life was kept running by this mysterious organ; it never stopped pumping, not until the moment where we die. It just kept pressing on, no matter what we subjected it to...

Suddenly I heard something that made my blood run still. A sound, in the dark- far off, but approaching nonetheless. I listened harder, standing swiftly. Footsteps- someone was drawing nearer, and by the sounds of the heavy boots they wore, that someone was most likely a guard. I turned back the scene I had created and was abruptly aware of how rash I had been... there was blood everywhere, all over the ground, the body, the door- and all over my clothes. I had planned to wait until getting inside the house to strike; why couldn't I have waited just a few more seconds!

Adrenaline coarsing through my body, I picked up my dagger and shoved it back in its sheath. I quickly scanned the scene, making sure I had left nothing incriminating, before opening the flap of my incredients bag and shoved the slippery heart inside, not having the time for a more convenient or less messy way to store it. As I turned quickly and started to run silently into the night, however, I did not notice as a single, solitary blossom of nightshade fell from the outer pocket of my bag and landed softly in the pool of blood.

* * *

There was a lot more to Lucien Lachance then met the eye. On the surface there were the cunning eyes, strong jaw and well-defined nose; all of which indicated a clever and strong man. His athletic body was capable of wielding the silver longsword at his waist with precision, while nimble and steady fingers revealed the fine alchemist that he was. But beneath his black robes was where most of his power was hidden.

Inside of his right sleeve there was a hidden sheath with a thin, deadly sharp dagger that could be slipped out with a flick of his fingers. His left sleeve was the home to an array of little vials containing only the deadliest and most treacherous of poisons. He had lined the torso of his Black Hand robes with a thin sheen of the most well-crafted mithril there was. Each of his boots were home to several arrows, skillfully placed as to not impede with his movement or comfort. Lining the underside of his belt were two dozen darts, each tipped with a paralyzing poison rivaled by none. And so on.

Because the careful placement of all of these instruments of death was a precise and slightly dangerous endeavor, it took Lucien a considerable amount of time in the morning to prepare for the day. And this morning was no different. He had awoken to the great bells chiming merrily in the nearby Temple District, for he was unaccustomed to such sounds. It was rare that Lucien stayed in towns or cities- but sometimes bad conditions during travel warranted a stay in a comfortable inn for the night. And that was what had happened last night- after bringing the dead drop letter to Chorrol, Lucien had been making his way to Skingrad to wait when the notion to take care of some business in the Imperial City had occurred to him. A certain trader owed him a bit of money...

After the transaction had been completed, he realized it was too late to begin travel to Skingrad- and besides, he'd found himself feeling very tired. It had been a long day, and so he had gotten himself a nice room at the Tiber Septim and dined in luxury for the night. It had been odd- for it was the first time in quite awhile that he had not donned his Black Hand robes, instead opting for a disguise as a noblemen in the most fashionable garb (stolen from a certain trader, actually...)- but the food had been exquisite and the bed divine, so Lucien had awoken at the chime of five bells comfortable and well-rested.

However, the bells were tolling half past when he finally closed his room door silently behind him and slipped on a ring- which caused him to vanish completely from sight. He made his way down the stairs, his thoughts drifting aimlessly as he opened the front door silently. It was drizzling, the soft-falling rain barely making a sound as it fell upon the cobbled stone. His meandering thoughts were immediately interrupted, however, when he stepped out into the plaza. A swarm of guards were surrounding a doorstep, their shadows magnified across the stone by the streetlamp overhead.

Lucien instantly slowed his step, dodging alongside the wall- they wouldn't be able to see him, but that didn't mean his footsteps couldn't be heard. Several voices echoed the otherwise empty streets, but he could not discern what they were saying. With infinite care, he moved closer, his eyes intent upon the scene. As he drew near, he tried to peer between the guards and catch a sight of what they were surounding- but it was no use, for they were too closely knit a group. With a sigh the Speaker found his way to the stoop neighboring the manor and ducked down, listening hard.

“We've sent for him already...”

“There's nothing else in there, no bodies, and it seems nothing was stolen...”

“... but his heart is gone, I tell you! Cut clean out!”

“...spine's snapped as well...”

A murder? Lucien's ears perked up at this. A snapped spine and cut-out heart? And not for the intent of robbery, it seemed... he should most certainly seek out whoever had commited this beautiful act, for they seemed to be a very likely candidate for the Brotherhood; but for now he had business to attend to. He had risen from the stoop he'd been crouched at and was turning towards the alley when he heard something that made him stop dead in his tracks.

“...ones of Umbacano's dogs- by the name of 'Matthias Draconis'...”

It couldn't be... he swiveled back about, this time taking a closer look at the group. Matthias Draconis? There were four guards, all of whom were holding torches and expressions of barely concealed horror. Matthias Draconis? He had just dropped of the dead drop the previous morning! Could Adrienne have already... of course she could have! he almost exclaimed outloud. He had given her the fastest horse in Cyrodiil, for Sithis's sake! And she always was eager to please... it seemed she had taken his invitation for haste very seriously indeed...

Lucien nearly laughed in earnest at the irony of him running into this scene. She had made quick work of him, it seemed- and so she had taken his heart? Interesting, very interesting... he was very much looking forward to seeing how the rest of this rather complex contract turned out. He had been wondering how she would take the premise of killing the family of her first murder- it was a rather odd request- but as soon as the Black Hand had mentioned their trouble with locating the family members to him, he'd known that Adrienne had to be the one to do this contract; after he had seen that she carried the list around, of course. He had hinted in his letter that he knew she would be able to find them with ease, and had done so intentionally to make her marvel at the knowledge he and the Black Hand possessed. He rather enjoyed her reverence of him...

Suddenly a voice rang out, and Lucien was drawn from his thoughts.

“Commander Civello, sir!” exclaimed four voices.

Another man had arrived, this one donning an exquisite set of ivory armor and equipped with a fine ebony claymore. Lucien nearly snarled, glaring at the Imperial Legion lapdog with disgust. If all of these guards were not present, he would have most certainly taken the oppurtunity to stain that sparkling white armor with scarlet...

“Have you found anything that could aid with our investigation?” Civello asked, his tone hard. “Any sort of evidence or sightings?”

“There was nothing left at the scene, sir- except for this.” The guard who had been speaking handed Ciovello something, something small- Lucien looked on eagerly, trying to get a glimpse- but it was too small and he was too far away to identify the object.

“What is this?” Ciovello asked irritably. It seemed that even close up it was hard to recognize.

“That's a flower, sir.” One man replied timidly, while Lucien raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, I can see that! What type of flower is what I meant...” the other man cowered at the ferocity in Civello's voice.

“It's nightshade, sir. That there'd be a blossom of nightshade, without a doubt,” another soldier replied hurriedly.

And to that Lucien's lips upturned slightly in the corners, for that was his favorite flower; and it was the one that Adrienne always smelt of when one stood close enough to catch her scent. She had most certainly taken the task to heart, and was performing the assassinations with a sadistic beauty that evidently came naturally to her. It was rare to see such talent in creating the level of elegance Adrienne achieved in her kills- Lucien recalled a story he had heard about a certain old woman who had attended a party and ended up stuck to a door with a silver dagger in head- and her flair for the dramatic was quite clear. He was very much looking forward to seeing how she finished this contract... maybe they could discuss her technique in their meeting, once the contract was taken care of; they could speak of their mutual passion for the art of death...

After a moment he rose from his crouching position and pulled his hood further over his face, having heard enough, and started to retreat into the darkness. The rain was starting to increase as he made his way towards the city gates, the words of Ciovello echoing over his shoulder for a moment before they were lost in the sounds of the storm.

“Dispatch two riders after noontime today to inform Lady Caelia of the news...”

* * *

Author's Note: I really have no excuse for the line about what power lies beneath Lucien's robes... just me being a total fangirl! Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed the chapter, and I can't wait to hear what you think about it.

[canis216]

Good to have you back... your attention to detail in this story is remarkable.