It had been a few months since Karliah and Nocturnal had assimilated her into the group known as the Nightingales. The equipment she was given was quite nice. The bow was gorgeous, the sword was vicious, and the armor... it suited her quite well. Then Brynolf, the poor fool, tried to place the position of leader of the guild onto her. The situation had been quite awkward, really. She turned the event over again in her mind.
"Fralia..." Brynolf had been with her through the Nightingale coronation... he hadn't taken off the armor since. He continued, "being a guild master means more than just getting a cut of all the loot. It's about being a leader... and keeping this rabble in order. With that in mind, I propose that the position of Guild Master... should be yours." Fralia looked back at him... shocked. Brynolf turned to the others. Delvin, Vex and even Karliah agreed with him. "It's settled... I wish you-"
"Wait." Everyone turned when Fralia spoke. For the most part she was the quiet type. Only speaking when absolutely necessary. "Brynolf... everyone... I feel honored that you would all consider me worthy to lead the Guild. But i have to decline." Brynolf seemed to understand, but the others were surprised.
"But lass... you are the best thief out of all of us. No one could better fill the position than you."
"That's just it Brynolf... that's all i am is a good thief. I'm no leader. I'm sorry. And Bryn, i know you'd rather not, but i feel you would be better suited for this... but i'm out." With that, she left the cistern... and hadn't gone back since.
With the money she had made working with the guild, as well as adventuring, she had bought a piece of land just outside of Falkreath. She spent a good portion of her time here, improving it, adding furniture and generally making it into a home. It would be her first time having a place to call home since leaving Valenwood. The place was perfect for her too. The trees may not have been as big and as dense as the ones back home, but it was good enough for her. By the time the guild had tried to make her their leader, she had just finished building on the house. Her library was nearly full of the books she had collected, her greenhouse was lush with plants she could make into potions and poisons. She even had a storage room in the back of the house as well as her own forge in the cellar. Life was good. And simple. Her skills continued to improve in the art of alchemy and smithing. It was still a long way from being "home" but with Jen by her side, it was close.
Fralia and Jenassa had been traveling together for a long time now. They met the first time the wayward adventurer paid a visit to Whiterun. She had stepped into the Drunken Huntsman to pick up some supplies and trade in some things she had found on the way. She took a seat and a mug of mead to relax a bit before touring the rest of the city. That was when she took notice of the Dunmer mercenary sitting alone in the corner. The elf asked if Fralia might need the company of a sell-sword in her travels. Usually, Fralia preferred to work alone but something about this woman entranced her. She seemed strong and perhaps on the darker side of the moral scale? They would get along nicely, she thought. Since then, they've been inseparable.
They sat together now, on the balcony of Lakeside Manor, Fralia leaning back sipping juniper and mint tea and Jenassa reading one of the many books Fralia had stocked their shelves with. As she threw back the rest of her tea, Fralia stood, placed her cup on the table, and stepped back inside the house. She walked into her bedroom and looked around. The bookshelf here held all of the books she held to the highest importance. She had a copy of every book she could find about the thieves guild and the nightingales as well as the mad god Sheogorath whom she was most fond of. She also had a copy of the first volume of the Lusty Argonian Maid. She still had yet to find volume two. The plaque on the wall held her Nightingale Blade. It had been a good tool for a while, but a recent visit to a desecrated shrine had found her a blade of fire and light, granted to her by the Daedric Lord Meridia. The Nightingale Blade quite literally paled in comparison to this sword which never left her hip. There really wasn't much else in the room. Only a few clothes hung in one of her wardrobes and she rarely wore them. She mostly went about in her Nightingale Armor, minus the hood of course. Her crown of gold and antlers suited her more than a hood that covered her face and stunning red hair.
She stepped down the stairs, glancing around the empty dining room, and into the entryway where most of her belongings were. Her bow sat upon a stand next to a large display case which she had taken upon herself to fill with gems. She had a long way to go before the thing was full but it was a fun habit, she thought. And an excuse to get out of the house... Once she was finished feeling around the house she grabbed her bow and her traveling bag and headed back to the balcony to fetch Jen and go out for more adventure.
Mounted upon horses, they rode north toward Riverwood, having no sense of destination, but for the sake of traveling. After an hour or so, Jenassa finally broke the long silence which was common on these trips. She pulled her horse up alongside Fralia's.
"So where, might I ask, are we off to this time?" Fralia slowed her horse a bit and pulled a piece of parchment out of her traveling bag. On this bit of paper was a map of Skyrim, which she would use to keep record of errands that she would agree to carry out for those who couldn't leave their homes to do it themselves. She glanced over it a few minutes, aknowledging the many scribbling she had done on locations that held treasure, or small villages that needed a parcel delivered to them from some merchant or other. This time around she felt an urge to fight. It had been a while since she delved into some cave or mine and SLAUGHTERED EVERY LAST ONE OF ITS INHABITANTS.
Her gaze fell upon a dwemer ruin to the north that she had penciled in. The scribbling next to it read "Find Grimsever for Mjoll in Riften". Her mind toyed with this for a moment before rolling up the parchment again and looking up at her companion. "My dearest friend. How do you feel about paying a little visit to a Dwemer ruin?" Jen smiled at her bosmer counterpart and replied:"I go wherever you go, sera." Fralia gave a little smile before straightening up in the saddle and pushing her horse into a trot. From there, they followed the path northeast, passing briefly through Riverwood and on towards Whiterun. They arrived at the Whiterun Stables just as the sun was setting over Nirn and so entered the city to spend the night at the Bannered Mare.
The atmosphere at the Mare was as it usually was at this time. The townfolk were settling after a day of working their stalls or shops or the local farmers had come in for a drink or two. Voices filled the air, joyous as could be considering the circumstances. With the war going on, the people were divided according to their opinionated alliances. This hadn't affected Fralia at all. She was new to Skyrim and although the war had caused her to be captured and nearly beheaded upon entering the province, she had decided thus far to stay out of the whole situation. She stepped up to the counter, the smell of mead and smoke from the fire surrounding her. She requested a room from Hulda, handing over a few septims, politely avoiding small talk and urging Jen to follow her through the kitchen and up the stairs to their room. Fralia immediately closed the door once they were safely inside and sprawled out on the bed, letting out a sigh of relief.
"Should I go get us some food?" Jenassa asked, moving to go back out.
"That won't be necessary dearest," and from her sleeve, she procured a fresh sweetroll and tossed it to Jen, which she caught successfully. Fralia then grabbed a whole wheel of goat cheese, two salmon steaks and a jug of milk all of which she placed on the side table. Jen stared in admiration.
"But where...?"
"One does not simply walk through the Bannered Mare kitchen without stealing food."
"Damn. You're getting good. I didn't even see you take these and I was right behind you."
"I'm just glad i decided to ditch that Nightingale Armor for a simple black robe. The armor is nice but it's hard to hide things on such a tight garment..."
"What about that bag of yours? You seem to be able to fit anything into it..." Fralia paused between bites of cheese and looked down at the bag slung across her shoulder. It was considerably small but was capable of holding any number of weapons, clothing, food and potions... even the myriad of books she habitually collected. "What's the story behind it? In all the time I've been travelling with you, i still do not understand how it works. Is it some sort of daedric artifact?"
"Not quite... back in Valenwood, there was an old dunmer mage that had travelled there to work on a project. I had known him my whole life. He used to be quite an adventurer himself. He was all too aware of the problem of carrying a vast amount of loot out of a cave or ruin and bringing it to the nearest town, especially if one is lacking a horse. He spent a large portion of his later years trying to create a vessel that could carry tons upon tons of items without running out of room or overencumbering the wearer..." she paused for a drink of milk before picking up a piece of salmon steak and eating it a piece at a time. Jen followed her example. "As you can see, he was successful. I'm not sure how he did it and i never asked. But when i... left... I had decided to visit him one last time and inform him that i was leaving for... well originally i was leaving for Cyrodil but events pushed me toward Skyrim. He simply insisted that, since he was too old to go out adventuring and put the bag to good use, that i should take it. I am very grateful to him. He is the only one i still miss from... back home." Her tone turned solemn as it often did when she spoke of her homeland. It always left Jen puzzled.
"Why did you leave Valenwood...?" The question was asked often. Sometimes subtly, sometimes not. But the answer was always the same.
"That is a story for another time... for now, we must rest. Tomorrow will be a long day." Fralia removed her boots and set them near the door before getting under the covers and making room on the small bed for Jenassa to join her. Once they were tucked snuggly together, Jenassa asked one last question.
"If you won't tell me why you left Valenwood, could you tell me truthfully why you left the Thieves Guild? That line about lacking leadership skills was nonsense and it's not fooling me." Fralia sighed and thought out her response carefully before replying.
"The Guild was... good... while it lasted. But it's lacking. In their dealings, they don't allow... murder. Frankly, it's boring. I've built my house from the money i made there and that was all i really needed. That was the whole reason i joined the guild. But now i wish to work alone again... with you being the exception of course. You accept me as I am. You've witnessed the extent of my bloodlust and yet you stay by my side. I couldn't ask for a better companion." there was a long silence in which Fralia feared she had said too much or made the wrong assumptions about Jen understanding her... the relief was immense when she finally spoke.
"I understand. But it's not just about you wanting to be free to kill. You would have done that regardless if that was all you cared about. It's the thought of working in a group... or worse leading that group. I don't yet know what it is about you and other people. Trust issues perhaps? I know you don't like them. The way you reacted downstairs... you had a look on your face... like a caged animal... you never act that way when surrounded by bandits. But with innocent civilians who wish you no harm-" Jen stopped when Fralia tensed and tightened her grip on her. She knew that to be a clue that she had said too much... and that she was close to the root of the problem. She said no more, only entwined her fingers with the hand that was wrapped so tightly around her. With that, they slept through the night...
Early the next morning, while the town still slept, they procured a few more food items (not at all by honest means) before setting out again. They took the path heading east and then north away from Whiterun and across the plains. The sun was just beginning to rise and the view was stunning. To the east was the White River, running along through twists and turns and falls where one could see the salmon leaping against the stream. To the west and north, a wide expanse of plains riddled with deer and elk and the occassional fox. Fralia could see all the way across until they were cut off by the mountains farther north and Dawstar just beyond. They're destination was somewhere amongst those rocky hills. As they made their way north, the river tapered off to the east, giving way to more mountains. The scenery and the solitude was slowly sending Fralia into a very calm state of being, and that crisp morning air was exhilerating.
She was soon snapped out of it, however, when she heard a very high-pitched voice in distress crying out. A little way up the road was a horse-drawn wagon, that seemed to have a broken wheel, which was carting a very large crate. Fralia never had the chance to wonder about the crate when she laid eyes upon the very intriguing man pacing nervously around the back of the wagon. The man looked to be an imperial, dressed in a tattered red and black jester's outfit. Jester's clothes of all things! Tattered or not, the whole thing was rather regal. Black boots with gold trimming and gloves to match, very high quality indeed, and a hat with two tails in the back. It was strange, sure, but she rather liked the outfit. Especially for it's particular shade... the red reminded her of blood.
The imperial was muttering something to himself as she and her comrade approached and she just caught the end of it.
"Stuck here... STUCK! my mother my poooor mother... unmoving... at rest... but TOO STILL!" his speech was rather irregular, probably due to the stress but Fralia could easily take him for a madman the way he spoke. As she approached, she dismounted her steed and approached him, noticing right away that he was also very short.
"Is there a problem, sir?" she spoke with curiosity thick in her voice. He turned to acknowlegde her and she took in his appearance. His hair was a weak shade of red and his eyes a bright amber. Her curiosity now turned to an attraction. For in those eyes, she could also see that he was, in fact, quite mad... maybe even... her particular brand of madness? Perhaps it was only wishful thinking... He responded in his high-pitched voice.
"Oh poor Cicero is stuck, can't you see?" at this point he made a very sad face. "I was transporting my dear, sweet mother- well not her. Her corpse. Hehehe she's quite dead." was this his normal tone of voice? Fralia couldn't help but giggle a little at his joke. He didn't seem to notice and continued his rant. "I'm taking mother to a new home. A new crypt but... AGGH WAGON WHEEL, DAAAMNDEST wagon wheel, it broke DON'T YOU SEE?"
"I do see," she glanced at the broken wagon wheel. "Is there any way I can help?" as soon as the word 'help' left her mouth, the man, whom apparently was called Cicero, simply lit up, taking Fralia by surprise, he even did a little dance.
"Oh. Oh YEEES! The kindly Bosmer can surely help..." he said, with a huge grin on his handsome face. So this IS his normal voice... "Go to the farm. The LOOOReius farm. Just over there up the road. Talk to Loreius. He has tools. He could help me, but he won't. He refuses!" Fralia's face turned serious as she looked toward the farm that Cicero had indicated. "Convince Loreius to fix my wheel. Do that, and poor Cicero will reward you. With coin! Shiny, gleamy coin!" At this point the gold mattered little to her.
"He has tools?" she asked.
"Yes!" Cicero responded dutifully.
"And he won't help you...?"
"No..." he made a pouty face that Fralia could not deny was quite adorable. But she focused on the farm.
"I will go speak with this man. You stay right here." the jester giggled excitedly as Fralia made her way up the road.
"Would you like me to accompany you, sera?" Jenassa called from her horse.
"Not this time. I've got this" she called back. As she approached the farmhouse she spotted a man whom she assumed to be this Loreius character leaning against a railing in front of his house, looking out over his crop of gourds and potatoes. He saw her coming and let out a sigh of annoyance.
"For the love of Mara, what is it now?" she stepped up onto the porch just as he was straightening out.
"Are you Loreius?"
"Yes, and who are you?" she stepped onto his porch.
"That man by the road... he seems to be in need of your help."
"What, that Cicero fellow? Yea tell me something i don't know. The crazy fool's already asked me about a dozen times..."
"And you haven't helped him?" the farmer was completely oblivious to the darkness creeping into her tone.
"Of course not. I mean, have you seen the man? He's completely insane! A jester in Skyrim? Ain't been a merryman in these parts for... over a century. And he's got that weird crate... says it's his dead mother and he's going to bury her. Mother, my eye... could be anything in there. Weapons, war contraband, skooma? Nuh uh. I don't want anyth- AGH!" Fralia had heard enough. She had his throat gripped tightly in her hand as she pinned him against the wall of the house, his feet dangling. She slowly unsheathed her sword as she spoke to him.
"That man has asked for your help... you have the tools to do so..." she brought Dawnbreaker up to his throat, just below her hand, just close enough that he could feel the heat from it's enchanted blade. "You are going to go get those tools and fix that damn wheel or, Gods help you, I will slaughter you and that lovely wife of yours." he looked at her in horror when she mentioned the woman, his face slowly turning red from lack of oxygen. "Yes that's right... and if you have children, you better hope i won't find them... i will show no mercy, you can trust me on that. Now. You are going to fix that wheel. And don't you even think of calling the guards, because I will cut you down before the words have a chance to escape your throat. Do you understand me?" tears in his eyes, the farmer nodded and Fralia let him down on his feet, giving him just enough time to breathe before following him to get his tools, make his way down to the wagon, and wordlessly begin fixing the wheel. Cicero giggled with delight when he saw them coming down the hill, Loreius with tools in hand. Fralia hovered over him until she was absolutely certain that he wouldn't cause any trouble. She then turned to Cicero.
"My name is Fralia, by the way." she said. The jester looked overly pleased and very giddy.
"Oh thank you, dear Fralia, thank you thank you thaaank you. But more importantly, my mother thanks you."
"Of course. You have a safe trip, and I hope we'll meet again some day. Will you be staying in Skyrim long?"
"Oh yes, that was the plan. And thank you again. And here! As promised, gold! For your troubles."
"Thank you, it was no trouble at all, really." she smiled at him from beneath her hood. Loreius had just finished patching up the wheel and was gathering his tools. Fralia walked over to him, her robes billowing around her, and grabbed him harshly by the shoulder pulling him closer and staring into his eyes. "Is this going to hold?"
"Yes, ma'am." his voice was low and shaky.
"You do realize, if i come back this way and find his wagon on the side of the road again, i will be coming after you. Now i ask again. Did you fix the wheel correctly?"
"Yes yes! I promise!" he was desperate now.
"For your family's sake, you better hope so... now go back home and pretend this never happened. Do you understand?" he nodded and she let him go. He ran back up the hill and into his house. Ignoring the looks she recieved from Jen, she addressed Cicero. "May the gods watch over you, friend. I do hope we have the pleasure of meeting again. So long." with that, she mounted her horse and they went their seperate ways.
Jen eyed her suspiciously as Cicero's cart headed south and out of sight. It was quite some time before she said anything.
"Are you going to tell me what that was all about?" she said as she brought her horse up next to Fralia's. Fralia was gazing off ahead of her with an odd smile on her face. This worried Jenassa even more.
"To answer your inquiry from last night... for why I left the guild... i never quite felt comfortable there." Jen was quite shocked to hear Fralia actually sharing her thoughts. This was unusual for her. "The other members of the guild were quite distant from each other. Vex had once referred to it as a "cozy little family" but she could never be far from the truth. I simply couldn't connect with any of them. I didn't quite feel like I really belonged there. So i left... and to confirm your suspicions: I don't do well in crowds. I always feel like everyone is always looking at me and for some reason that is worse for me than if they were trying to attack me. Violence i can understand but... being polite? Social normality? I just... can't. I'm the goddamned Dragonborn and I can't handle sitting in a room of strangers without feeling like the air is getting thinner around me..." The dunmer could not believe her ears. She understood completely but had no idea what to say. These were things that she never expected Fralia to talk about with her, despite how much she trusted her. Something had happened back there that had changed her, and Jen was sure it was something to do with that Jester... Or was she simply going mad...er?
"Thank you for telling me this... I know it is difficult for you to talk about something so personal. I am honored that you trust me on that level."
"I swear by the nine, Jenassa, if you ever tell anyone, I will fucking kill you." Jen couldn't help but laugh at her defensiveness, but she promised never to breathe a word of it and they continued towards Mzinchaleft at a quicker pace.
~x-x-x~
The ruin of Mzinchaleft proved to be quite a challenging venture, but not one that Fralia and Jenassa could not overcome. They fought a large dwarven centurion and retrieved the enchanted glass sword that Fralia had promised to find. After exiting the ruin, it took them two days to make their way into riften to return the sword to Mjoll. She was overjoyed to see the blade again.
"You found Grimsever! Thank you. You know... when you said you were thinking of joining the Thieves Guild, i thought you were no better than the scum in the ratway. I see I still have much to learn. If you ever need my steel by your side, i'd be happy to go with you on your journey. Perhaps you could teach me a few things." Fralia's thoughts turned to her dunmer companion who had decided to procure them a room in The Bee and Barb while she took care of things.
"Thank you for the offer, but i already have a reliable sword by my side. But that doesn't mean you shouldn't return to adventuring. Riften is beyond help, and your talents may be needed elsewhere. Go on and perhaps some day we will meet again and exchange stories."
"I will consider it... with Grimsever by my side once again... as long as i stay away from dwemer ruins, eh?" they laughed together before leaving each others company. The sun was setting as Fralia wandered through the marketplace and across the bridge, looking around the city. She hadn't been here since leaving the guild... perhaps she would pay a visit to Brynjolf? See if he took up the guild leader position...
Fralia could never quite explain it... maybe it was fate... perhaps it was a push from the gods... maybe she had sensed trouble... but in that moment, she felt something pulling her attention to the building directly to her right. The sign above the door read: Honorhall Orphanage. She didn't quite know why and maybe she never would, but something told her she had to go in there.
She entered the building inconspicuously, closing the door behind her very quietly. As soon as the door was shut she heard the voice of an old woman.
"Those who shirk their duties will get an extra beating. Do i make myself clear?" then a chorus of discontent children. "Yes, Grelod..."
"Good. And one more thing. I'll have no more talk of adoption. None of you little guttersnipes is getting adopted! Nobody needs you! Nobody wants you... Now. What do you all say?"
"We love you, Grelod... thank you for your kindness." No matter what the reason... she didn't care anymore why she came in. But after that... something snapped in her and she knew what needed to be done. She stepped around the corner into a room where this detestable woman stood before about seven orphaned children. When she saw the wood elf, her nose wrinkled in disgust.
"Who are you? By shor, what do you want?" Fralia said nothing, her eyes hidden beneath hair and hood. In one swift movement she drew her sword of flames and buried the blade in the woman's belly, ripped it out, and then sliced her wrinkled neck, spraying blood all over herself and the children. A younger woman, whom Fralia assumed to be an assistant or underling of some sort screamed in terror and curled up in the corner. The children, however, stood in silence for only a few moments before clapping and cheering. There was a flurry of excitement around her and one of the girls came up to her and tugged on the sleeve of her robes.
"Thank you so much! When Aventus said those things about contacting the brotherhood and killing Grelod... we didn't believe him but... he did it! We're free! Haha!"
The brotherhood...
It all came back to her now. Her hair fell over her eyes as her thoughts were clouded. The sound of joyful children faded into the background.
The Dark Brotherhood...
She remembered now... how could she forget? His memory had of course been ever present in the darkest corners of her mind, but that low buzzing now came back in full force. That was why she was here, wasn't it? That was why she came to skyrim...
Ri'saara...
She just managed to whisper a few words before she faded into her thoughts.
"Where is this boy..." the child hadn't noticed any change in the bosmer.
"He used to live with his mother in Windhelm before she died. Maybe he's there now?"
After the child answered, all Fralia could hear was screaming. She never even remembered leaving the orphanage...