Speak no Evil

Silence echoed across the Cheydinhal sanctuary in dull, thundering roars. Not even Scabbers walking across the cold stone floors disturbed the stillness of the air. Taking care not to disturb it herself, she sifted through her home, flexing her fingers as tears fell freely from her sharp eyes. Her gaze flickered around, remembering the daily life of her family, holding onto their image. She was trying to remember that they weren't dead, and she hadn't really killed them. They had survived. They had survived. They had to have survived. She choked back a sob, a hard lump in in her throat. They had survived, Juliette. Get a damn hold of yourself. You won. You beat him. You won. He's gone. He won't hurt you, again. Ever again.

"Juliette," Lucien whispered behind her. She turned to him, her eyes red and her hair caked with blood. My brothers blood. Mathieu's blood.

She blinked, indicating she was listening. She had always had the most unique way of communicating, preferring silence. Lucien appreciated this, indeed, so had Vicente, and most of the Black Hand. It was only a few hours ago that she had spoken, truly spoken, in years.

'You bastard!' She cried, eyes filled with tears. Lucien blinked in surprise, and Mathieu stepped back. She hasn't spoken since the death of their mother, of their father. Nay, it was before that. Long before their family had crumbled. 'You betrayed my only true family, the only family I had ever known! And for what? That whore of a mother?'

She pursed her lips, the memory flashing across her mind. She shouldn't think of that now, but it kept coming.

'Mommy Mommy as you lie, the dark man comes and makes you die. My daddy's hands are red with guilt because he killed the life we built.' She repeated the words, tossing her mother's head carelessly before him. He gasped, his hands clenched in anger.

'Mother!'

"It's over, Juliette. He's dead. You killed him."

A terse nod. She looked around her again, gesturing, her arms wide open with a slight shrug of despair.

"Yes, it is quite empty, isn't it?" Lucien stepped beside her, looking around. He frowned before glancing at her again.

"We should bring them home." She nodded again. They, the members of the Cheydinhal Sanctuary, were hiding in her home. It was a private place located on the borders of Morrowind, and no one knew of it beside Lucien and Mathieu. Mathieu has not stepped foot in that place for years, however, as that was where their mother had died.

'Do not speak of her that way!' Mathieu yelled, his voice rising, temper flaring.

'She deserves it! She deserved to die, just as Father deserved his death!'

'No! No she didn't! She was innocent, Juliette!'

They traveled on Shadowmere, the beloved horse that had carried her to Anvil in two hours when it should have been five. She caressed the horse gently, kissing her nose. Shadowmere snorted, kissing her slightly as only a horse can. Shadowmere wasn't fond of many people other than Lucien, but she adored Juliette. She didn't prattle. She was as silent as the void.

When they arrived, they were met by Ocheeva, who greeted them warmly.

"Lucien, Juliette! I trust all went well?" Juliette shrugged, leaving Lucien to answer. "All that could have," he replied. They would explain in length once they were inside. Ocheeva and Lucien headed for the door, but Juiette stayed outside, staring up at the two story home. She pursed her lips. It has been some time, since she's seen this place. She hasn't stepped foot in it in what seemed like eons. It would be... strange, returning now. So many horrors happened in this place, so many memories that were made of nightmares. Juliette closed her eyes. She would have to step inside, sooner or later. She would rather brace herself for the memories.

'Daddy, daddy please, no, not tonight... Please, daddy, not tonight...'

'Come, sweet-ling. They are gone for the night, we have all the time in the world.' A man with a wicked grin said as he undressed her. She forced herself not to cry.

"Juliette," Lucien called again. She looked up at him. Ocheeva stared at her worriedly, glancing at Lucien, seeking instruction. "It shall be alright," he told her, before stepping inside. Ocheeva followed soon after. Juliette paused, nodded to herself in assurance, then stepped inside.

'Sissy Sissy, look what Mommy got me!' A young boy said, smiling at her jubilantly, showing her a small trinket. She simply stared at him, saying nothing. She felt as if... as if she was another person, far older than the boy who stood before her, even though he was older by three years.

"Ah, Juliette, Lucien. All is well, it seems." Vicente said as Lucien entered. Lucien nodded, glancing back at Juliette. "The traitor has been dealt with?"

"Indeed. It was Juliette who found the traitor out, then killed him."

"Indeed? And how did you find that out, may I ask?" Lucien opened his mouth to answer, but Juliette cut him off. She sat down, sighing.

"It was easy, when I've known him all my life." Her voice was soft, heavy. "Mathieu Bellamont was the traitor. ."

Antoinetta gasped. "Really?" She breathed, more surprised that she spoke than that about her brother. Juliette stood, motioning to the chair Teinaava sat in.

"That's where Momma would sit, sewing, pretending to get things done. Over there was where Matty used to play with his trinkets. I would read, just over there," Juliette pointed to various places, the library, the small nook. She was in a trance, sorrow weighing her down with two thousand tons of guilt, regret. Not even the joy of it finally ending did lift her spirits. They watched her, silent, listening as she explained her day to day life as a child.

"That's where Daddy prayed," she said, pointing to the nook, "and there, where Lucien came in to speak with him... 'Father prayed and guess who came the hooded man in Sithis' name who left but then he came once more to pass through window wall and door...'" Juliette paused, swallowing the lump in her throat that refused to leave. She started again.

"Momma was upstairs, when Lucien killed her... Matty underneath the bed, Matty was scared. Matty cried a lot, but he never found out... never found out... 'I pledged to you that day the Brotherhood would dearly pay and just as they took me from you I'd find and kill their mother too but there's someplace I need to start and that's with father's beating heart.'" Her hands shook as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, turning around.

"Daddy was... Daddy was downstairs, with me.. when... when Matty came to kill him. He stabbed him in the back, and I can remember the look in his eyes as I lied underneath him. The look of defeat, of despair and hurt. He had planned on taking me away, away from Momma and Matty, where we could be together forever. I didn't want to be with him forever. I hated him, I wanted to kill him."

She turned to Lucien, who stared at her stoically. "I think..." she paused. "I think that's my only regret. That I could not kill him myself." She looked around her, ignoring the others who listened with intent, her heart beating faster, her breath becoming irregular. Everything seemed to close in on her, spinning round and round as memories flashed before her eyes. Vicente moved, alarmed. Tears fell from her eyes as he grasped her by the shoulder, leading them outside. It was nighttime, thank goodness for Vicente, the stars glittering above them. She sobbed into Vicente's arm's, struggling to breath. Vicente held her close, whispering soothing words in her ear. Eventually, she calmed down.

"Is it wrong, that I should love the family as I do, when they have taken everything from me, even if it was a life I did not want?" Juliette asked softly.

"We took nothing from you," Vicente said fiercely. "We gave you a life better than the one you have always known, one where we accepted you no matter what. You are our Sister, our family."

"He wanted me to replace Momma," Juliette said. "I look like her. I hate her. I've always hated her. She could not give my father what he wanted, and so he had to resort to me. And she knew. She knew and didn't stop it. Matty had always been her favorite. She never cared for me. And he wanted me to replace her. He would call me 'Mother' sometimes, when we were younger. I hated him for it. But I loved him too. He was all I had left. Should I still hate him, when he betrayed us? When he killed family?"

"People cannot choose who they love," He told her kindly. He smiled at her, like a father would. Not her father. A real father. One who cared for his child, one who loved his child, one who would die for his child. Not her father. Never her father. "The matters of the heart elude even Sithis and the Night Mother. We shall not blame you, for feeling as you do. Never focus on those feelings however, do not become obsessed with remorse like your brother had. You will become him."

"I do not want that."

Vicente chuckled. "Nor do I. Come, let's go inside."

"No," she said. "I can't. Too many... too many memories. Bad, horrible nightmares. We should burn it down."

Vicente bowed his head. "If that is what you wish." He went inside to inform the others. Quickly, Antoinetta and Teleandril coated the floors with wine, beer and ale, and M'raaj-Dar lighted the place up with one quick spell. The family watched far away as the home burned. Gogron and Teleandril were passing around bottles of ale, though Juliette rejected hers. She despised alcohol. She watched as the flickering flames consumed her house, hoping the image of her one time home would burn the memories from her mind, to no avail. They would remain with her for the rest of her life.

"When in the snow I like to lie and fold my arms and wait to die." Juliette said to herself as the ashes kissed her cheek.

"It is over," Lucien said, standing beside her. His eyes remained on the house "Why do you keep quoting his journal?"

"He was a sick bastard," Juliette said with conviction. She sighed. "But he was my brother. His poetry was disturbing, but nonetheless beautiful." She closed her eyes. "I quote them so I remember just how disturbed, how insane he truly was. So I don't forget that he never truly cared about me."

"He did," The imperial corrected. "Talked of you often, before you had joined."

"I suppose it doesn't matter now."

'I hate you, you stupid pig! How could you do this to me? To the people who gave us shelter, a home?'

'They deserve to die, just as the Night Mother does! Do you think she really loves you? That she cares for you? And that the Dread Father, he is a better replacement? Do you think your precious Lachance gives a damn about you? Or even that idiot vampire, Valtieri' Mocking laughter filled Applewatch farm. The others, they wanted to step in though Lucien prevented them. It was her battle, not theirs. Juliette snarled, throwing a knife at him. He dodged, drawing out his own Blade of Woe. They fought, firing as many insults and curses as there were tears. In the end, Juliette won. His body lied on the floor, a soft smile on his face. Hunched over him, Juliette sobbed, mourning her brother's death.

Lucien placed a hand on her shoulder. 'Juliette,' he called. 'It's time to go.'

"Juliette," he called again. She blinked, staring at him in questioning. "It's time to go." She gave a short nod, sparing the house one last glance.

May her memories burn with it.