My first Skyrim fic, of course DB-orientated. I've only really just started this & if it goes no where, it goes no where. I am however, liking it so far - Lucien's an uber awesome character to write. So anyway, yeah, if I think that this fic's for nought I won't go on with it - simple as. Although this could actually pass for a one-shot, so, win-win, innit? Ha, please review & lemme' know what you think, thanks.

Prologue: Marked for Death

†

Soundless sleep, the tell-tale sign that one is at peace with themselves. Yes, yes; that is the saying, one who sleeps without being wakened by their guilt, by their shame, is perfect for me. I have searched far and wide from Bravil to Bruma seeking this one. My hands feel steady, wrapped in a second skin of soft deceitful leather, black as night and as supple as a woman's flesh. Between my skilled fingers is a steel knife, not ordinary steel of course for how could I cut the soul from the lion's share with a glorified butter knife? The Blade of Woe rests in my hand, deadly and plain; dark rippling metal with a deadly curve and a wicked cutting edge. It is an instrument of the Void, a force that I wield with such subtlety, I must always be...subtle.

I hear a stirring and my head rises from my own ponderings. From behind the thick blackness of my warm velvet hood I see them awaken from their peaceful sleep. It is safe here for us – I have checked. We may conduct our business without fear of prosecution here, but we must never think ourselves truly safe. True security lays only in womb of our Mother and after that our Sanctuary and then even after that, the eternal and yawning Void of our Father. A soft groan and a sleepy grunt escape tired lips. They are never what you expect, no, it is always the ones you least expect to be capable of such morbid atrocities. I am Speaker, though; and I shall speak to this one, and they must listen.

"You sleep rather soundly for a murderer,"

I begin and I see that they are surprised to see me in their room. At such an intimate distance I could do so much. So much indeed, but I curb my teasing nature and caress the ancient blade in my hand. Flicking my calculating gaze up, I can see now a killer before me,

"That is good, you will need a clear conscience for what I am about to propose."

This one eyes me suspiciously, like an untamed alley cat. I smile lazily at this; I am old enough and have been serving darker beings for as long as I can remember to be surprised by their unwillingness. I have met many people and ended as many as I've met, most straight after I'd met them. This one has fire though, a hunger for darkness; so much so that I can feel the Lucky Lady rolling the dice and determining this one's fate utterly personally. I get up, unfolding my long legs, I have been sitting watching and waiting for so long;

"Then you prefer silence then? As do I, my dear child. Our arts lie in listening, seeing and acting."

I hear myself chuckle at this pantomime, the one on the bed simply watches me, and waits. Is it fear, obedience or curiosity keeping this one locked to the bed? I think it is a good deal of all of them, but I sense more curiosity than anything else. Why, I think I may even grow to like this silent glarer, so I saunter over to the bed now, closing the distance between us and kneel before the bed. Gazing up at this ambitious young thing, I say sincerely,

"I come to you now as Speaker for the Dark Brotherhood."

There is a brief, such a tiny flash in their eyes. The mayfly has ensnared the cod and now I have them in my soft, leather grasp. Will I choke or embrace?

"My name is Lucien Lachance, and my voice is the will of the Night Mother."

Our Lady's name bears weight amongst the superstitious and foolish, but I know for her existence to be true. She is real, death's cruel woman and to doubt her is foolishness indeed. She is our Mother, and I am the one to speak for her although I never hear her.

"She's been watching you."

I assure the gleaming eyes blazing at me on the bed,

"Observing you as you kill, admiring you as you end life without pity or remorse."

I sheathe the Blade of Woe to show my sincerity. Those eyes follow my every move, calculation, manoeuvring and stealth; they have it all and I know Mother has chosen well.

"The Night Mother is most pleased."

There is hesitation there too – I can see it. I have been reading faces for a very long time, fear, love, jealousy and envy; all can be gleaned from one with such eyes as this one. It is a little vulnerable, I'll admit, but such talent should not be passed up, regardless of those two shortcomings embedded in the skull. Offering a gloved hand, they take it. I grin, my charming oftentimes troublesome grin,

"That is why I come to you now. I bear an offering, an opportunity...to join our rather unique family."

There is a break in my thoughts. This is not my time, for mine has passed. The one I sought out slips away and so do I. Engulfed by a blackness so dark it blots out everything utterly. I scream in my fury as I am snatched back to serve my Father. I can see no one here; it is so very quiet and empty. There is relief though, the comfort of Mother's embrace as she holds me, a child of Sithis. For the first time I hear her voice,

Her rasps which bring me serenity like death's ululations reverberating throughout this black purgatory. She tells me that I will live again; tied to yet another in their life as that one was tied to my end. I accept Mother's promises and she beckons me sleep now. Closing my eyes I feel the Void closing in around me, and Mother's arms enfold me. It is so silent, so deathly quiet. And then I hear it;

"What is the music of life?"

A shadowy riddle uttered in the black. Come on, I think. You know this! But it is not me who is answering my Brother's game, no, I am not here. I hear a voice, unfamiliar but completely familiar at the same time. Strange, I know. Mother seems anxious for this one; I can feel her bones warming and Father's will ebb. We all watch, all of us; we wait until we hear the answer to the children's game,

"Silence, my brother."

Light floods in through the cracks of darkness, I feel life surge through me again; although I cannot yet break through. I feel Mother smile and I hear our Father's dreadful mirth, he is pleased with events. Something is happening, the wheel is turning and Mother promises me that soon I will be long for the world again.