WARNING: This chapter contains some forms of non-con. If this bothers you, then you are free to leave.
The sun beats down on my neck as I gather the eggs from the chickens my family owns. They peck at my legs through my old dress, though I don't mind really because they're just chickens; they don't understand the complex emotions that humans go through or even the annoyance of having one's legs pecked at.
I pat one on the back, only to get a harsh peck at my wrist. The wound swells slightly with blood and I give it a glance before wiping it on the underside of the hem of the raggedy dress and pressing the cut against my tongue, hoping to stop the bleeding. It's one of those things I've done since I was little – you suck on a cut, and it stops bleeding. Though I'm not some fancy scholar, so I couldn't really tell you why it does that.
I wait a few minutes against the wall of the house before checking the small gash. A few squeezes around my wrist to see if it's still bleeding disproves my suspicion and I gather the rest of the eggs, happily humming a little ditty I learned as a child.
I exit the chicken coop and tie the twine around the fence and the gate to keep it from opening. Carrying the basket inside, I set it next to my mother.
She smiles at me before looking me over. "Oh, you're a mess! We need to clean you up before Tristeran gets here. After all, he is courting the most beautiful lady in all of Tamriel." She sweeps a finger down my cheek before attempting to run her hands through my wavy red locks. It didn't really work so well; her hands got stuck in the wild mane I refused to brush.
She frowned. "When was the last time you brushed your hair?" I shrug.
"You're a mess. Well, go put on your dress clothes then we'll see what we can do for your hair." I nod to her and head into my room. My truck is pressed up against my bed and I open it, reaching to the bottom where my nice clothes lie wrapped up in an old animal skin. The light green and white cotton rimmed with lace is soiled in a few spots with light stains, though it's the best thing I have. I change into it and tie the bow in back before heading back out to my mother.
"Awww, aren't you lovely?" I frown, slightly uncomfortable with the excessive attention directed at me. Motioning towards me, my mother stands behind me, carefully picking through the knotted red strands until a horse trots up outside.
"That's him! Now you remember your manners, right?" I sigh and nod. A knock at the door leaves my mother nearly falling over herself and I reach up and run a hand through my hair, now tangle-free.
"Hello, Tristeran," I greet calmly as he stands in the doorway. His face is smudged with dirt in places and he easily stands several inches above me. He looks down on me and his eyes run up and down my body. A slightly uncomfortable feeling enters my stomach and I swallow hard.
"Hello, Zarissis." My name sounds like a plague on his tongue, at least to me, and I wince slightly. Zarissis is not a very Breton name; instead, my mother insisted giving me a name she felt had some Redguard origins, though I'm not exactly sure why. Most people just call me Zaris, as it's shorter. "Are you ready?"
I nod my head. Tristeran plans to take me for a nice-cooked meal at the tavern, not the nicest place in Cyrodiil, but they certainly have good food that a farm girl couldn't afford to buy on her own.
I'm not allowing him to court me out of choice; rather, my family arranged it with his, as I'm an "eligible young maid", as my father said. More than eligible, apparently, as he says most girls get married at sixteen, or even before, and I'm now nineteen. I don't feel nineteen. I feel like a child still, though my life has been rather sheltered. The only time I've seen the real world is in the old books I've read and dog-eared until the pages are worn and falling out and the binding has cracked open.
Something about Tristeran makes me uncomfortable, although I don't know why. He may tower over me, but he's always polite and charming to those who talk to him.
He offers me his arm, and I take it. I wave to my mother as we leave and she gushes over him and me and how cute we look.
The tavern is just in town; it's not a real big deal for anyone to enter it. Men and women go there to get a drink and possibly a meal after a long day of work. Often people will enter to play games. A child or two sometimes is even socially acceptable, simply because they enter looking for the parents who are resting. When we enter, a few people smile at us in greeting, and we take a seat near the back away from the loud ruckus of gossip and story-telling.
"You're beautiful as always, Lady Zaris." He smiles at me and I feel uneasy.
"I'm not a lady." I wrinkle my nose and take a sip of the wine he bought. "This is vile!" I gag slightly.
"What, never had some alcohol? I suggest you drink up then." He lifts up his own mug, which contains mead, and takes a swig. He leaves temporarily to request a hot meal and pays, then comes and sits back down.
I pretend to take sips of my wine, which appeases Tristeran. He continues to talk, mostly about his hunting expeditions with his father and which animals he slaughtered. That's pretty normal for a town, so I zone him out, nodding in all the right places. His voice steadily gets louder the more he drinks, though it isn't any different from anyone else. I sort of realize how everybody around me does all the same things, every day, and they all act pretty similar. I can't imagine myself harvesting eggs from chickens for the rest of my life. I need…excitement.
A kind tavern lady brings us the hot meal and I gasp. "You bought me salmon?" We may live somewhat close to the Niben River, but salmon is still a delicacy. I dig in with enthusiasm, and Tristeran laughs.
"Don't eat it too quickly, you'll make yourself sick." As we eat, his conversation turns more playful as he makes jokes about working as a farm boy and getting to court beautiful women (notice the emphasis he places on that word) such as myself. I end up blushing furiously.
"You sure look darn cute when you're all red like that, especially with your freckles." I bite my lip and smile, the compliment still pretty foreign. I end up drinking a little bit of my wine while I eat, and soon enough the red coloring in my cheeks stays there. I feel giddy and happy, though I know not why.
We finish our meal and I end up talking about the farm and my family, and then the books I read.
"It's probably getting dark. Perhaps I should be getting home?" I'm actually certain it is dark, but it's still more polite than demanding to be walked home.
"Sure," he stands up relatively easy and I dimly wonder how he's managing to stay on his feet after the several tankards of mead. I feel kind of tired.
We leave, my arm in his. It's already dark out and the stars twinkle above. Tristeran turns to face me and I stop, confused by the sudden change.
"I bought something for you when I went into town last week, but I left it at my house. Would you mind coming with me to the door real quick so I can grab it?" His face is kind and gentle, so I nod, despite the warning bells in my head going off. It's just to his door.
Tristeran and I begin walking the other way to his small shack which he owns and lives alone in while he works on his family's farm. The streets are pretty deserted as everyone has entered their homes for the night. His home is on the edge of town as all the main families settled first, and then everyone else who needed a home began building around it. None of the other homes face his and I feel that I should be slightly alarmed that we're alone, in the dark, away from anybody, but I don't.
"Stay here," he commands, and I wait by the wooden door as he runs inside real quick.
Several minutes pass and no Tristeran. Finally, I hear him shout and swear from within the house.
"Tristeran?" My voice sounds awfully small as I push open the door. He shouts for help within the other room and I run in to see him holding a bloody rag over his hand.
"I just cut myself on this fishing line while I was trying to get your gift. I'm sorry," I walk over and go to look at his hand, but he pulls it away from me.
"Over there, in that drawer, can you get me a healing potion?" I nod and look to where he's motioning with his head. I'm in his bedroom, but the thought doesn't really trigger until I approach the nightstand to open said drawer.
Grabbing the knob, I pull it open. A flat emptiness greets me, and I turn around just as the door to his room slams shut. The bloody rag is abandoned on the floor and I notice his hand was never really cut at all.
"You actually fell for that, did you? So kind." He maintains his polite appearance but panic threatens to bubble through my throat.
"What are you doing?" I choke out, backing up into a wall. He slowly advances, a threatening look in his eyes, like a hunter hunting his prey. I swallow hard.
"Lay with me, Zarissis. You are so beautiful." My eyes widen and I attempt to dart past him and through the door, but he seizes me by my hair. "So that's a no? What a shame. You were quite charming." He shoves me into a wall and I cry out. One hand hits me hard in the face and I shout.
Tears begin falling down my cheeks, though I hardly notice it. He wraps one hand around my throat and holds me in place while he runs a hand up my shirt, fondling my breast. I glare profusely at him.
In all my life, I've never had to fear anyone would take advantage of me. But now, everything has changed. I wish I had a knife or a dagger or some sort of sharp object; I feel defenseless and I hate it. I want to be strong and empowered so this can't happen.
He pulls my head back and crams his mouth onto mine. I shout out, but it's lost to his lips as he molests my mouth, forcing his tongue in and sucking harshly at my lips. I reach up and claw at his face. Suddenly he pulls back and seizes my neck, pushing me hard onto his bed. I cry out involuntarily and try to get away but his hands seize my shoulders and flip me onto my back. I struggle against him as he pulls my clothes off roughly, his hands tearing through my dress to the skin undernearth. He nearly rips my hair out of my head as I claw at him with my nails, but it's too late. My dress tears open, revealing my slight figure and small breasts. Twisting out of his grasp, I pull back my arm and punch him in the face, shocking him.
His eyes meet mine, a violent gleam in them.
"You will not refuse me." A flick of something shiny catches my eye and he moves his hand from my wrist to my mouth before I can scream. He sits on top of my hips and thighs, preventing me from moving.
"You belong to me. You will be my wife." Tristeran grins cruelly and the tip of the knife slides into the skin under my bra strap over my ribs, slicing it neatly. I howl with pain and struggle against him, but he holds me down. Tears stream out of my eyes and I beg for him to stop, but it's lost against his hand.
The sharp knife leaves parallel lines down my ribs on the left side and I shudder in pain, everything in my mind screaming and fighting. I wish I he was dead.
He tosses the knife to the side and slaps my face until it stings before laughing. "Aren't you a pretty thing now?"
Tears well up in my eyes and I bite my lip, desperately praying that some God will give me a chance to escape. I glance down to where the bloody knife is on the bed. Would I kill a man? To escape?
No, my subconscious shouts at me. Think of your family! They'd be so disappointed in you. Yes…they would, but I will not be a toy for some man to use as he wishes. If I want power…then I need to accept its consequences.
This is my one chance. I seize the knife and for a split second hesitate, the light gleaming off of the blood gathering at the tip. No, I must do this.
With all the force I have, I drive the dagger deep into his chest. A look of surprise flashes in his face, but the kill is neat and he goes limp on top of me. I push him off and pull the knife from his chest before slamming it in again and again to the wound, tears streaming down my face. At last I let the knife go and climb off the bed, backing into the wall.
I don't think anything for several minutes, just stand there dumbstruck. I killed a man. I've never dreamed of killing anyone in my life.
But you liked it…didn't you? I shake off the intruding thoughts and try to catch my breath and calm myself before glancing back to the window.
Oh crap! It's probably really late and my parents will be mad at me and now I've killed my fiancé.
Think, Zaris, think! I quickly grab a fur on his bed and wipe the rest of the blood off my chest and where it dripped onto my stomach. I grab the blood-stained rag on the floor and hold it to the cuts, hoping to stop the bleeding.
If anyone in town finds out I killed him, I'll be doomed. This needs to look like an accident…or not by me. A lot of people saw me with him tonight. Think!
Quickly, I come up with a solution. I run back into the main room of his house and find a piece of parchment and a quill and ink. Using the messiest handwriting I can manage, something that looks similar to his, I write the words, I'm sorry, Zarissis. I run back into his room, place the note on the table next to his bed, then lift his limp hand and place it around the dagger. I reposition the bloody furs around him so it looks like the blood came from his own wound and not from somebody else, like me. Then I grab my own clothes off the floor and quickly dress, a mechanical motion as my mind is still reeling from fear. I try to smooth out my hair before leaving his house.
The streets outside are dark and everything is quiet. I walk in the shadows to my house, my heart pounding in my ears. I'm terrified somebody will follow me.
As I'm about to turn a corner, I get an overwhelming feeling that I'm being watched. I turn around and scan my eyes through the dark, but I don't see anything. The feeling stays, and I think it's probably best to rush home.
I count to ten, trying to steady my heartbeat, before I enter the small house.
My mother sits sewing in a rocking chair. She looks surprised as I enter.
"You're back early. Tristeran didn't promise you home for another hour. How was it?" Her smile and statement send a wave of relief through me, but then I process the question. Do I tell her he tried to violate me? Do I tell her I killed him?
No. I can't tell her that. I lie instead, putting on my best acting face, the kind I use when I'm caught doing something wrong.
"It was fun. We talked and stuff and he bought me salmon." I smile at her and she raises an eyebrow.
"You look like you've done something wrong." Panic shoots through me again and I laugh nervously.
"He kissed you, didn't he?" Her eyes light up and she laughs. "Honey, that's not a bad thing." She winks at me before studying me for a second.
"You look like you've had a long day. Maybe you should go to bed." I nod my head at this and yawn. It's then that I realize in the morning they might know he's dead. I should probably fuel the lie.
I run my hands through my hair nervously, though mostly for show. "Mom…I think I'm falling in love with him. He's a really nice guy." My insides reel, though I don't let it show in my face.
She smiles. "I know. Good night, darling." She stands up and kisses me before pulling me into a hug. "You're growing up so fast." She smiles as she releases me, and I walk to my room.
Once inside, I close the door and pull of my nice clothes. It seems as though my undergarments caught the rest of the blood, leaving my nice clothes impressively unscathed. I glare at them and shove them into my chest. The slight amount of alcohol in my system makes me tired, and I pull on a nightdress after inspecting the scabs forming on my body.
I turn over with my face towards the wall as I contemplate what happened today. I killed Tristeran, yes…but I felt strong for the first time in my life. I felt like I had the power to decide my fate. I know I should feel worse about it, but killing him made me feel justified. I know they'll buy his fake suicide I set up. I've been tagged as the nice girl in our town, they won't ever suspect me. With this, I fall asleep, feeling slightly better about myself. The darkness takes hold, and I don't feel any regret, despite the act I committed.
"You sleep rather soundly…for a murderer." The voice nearly makes me jump out of my skin and I'm gripping the bed furs to my chest as I face a man sitting in the chair across from me, robed completely in black.
"Get out or I'll call the guards." My voice is firm, and I admire that change. However, the man only laughs darkly.
"Go ahead and try, I'll just tell them how you stabbed poor Tristeran to death." He smirks at me and I gasp. Horror grips my body and I'm shocked for a moment before realizing my mom is in the other room.
"Someone will hear you." I hold the bed furs tighter against me. This man is in my room and he knows I killed someone, and that scares me.
"No they won't. I put a silencing charm on this room." He laughs again and leans over, elbows on his knees, dark brown eyes inspecting me curiously.
I reach under my pillow and grab an iron dagger I've kept there in case someone broke in. "I've killed once, I can do it again." My voice is steady and I narrow my eyes at him.
The cloaked man's eyes light up. "Yes, yes you can. Poor Tristeran just didn't know what he had coming, and well, you don't seem to be mourning his passing too much. That's good, you'll need a clear conscience for what I'm about to propose." He stands up and I hold the dagger tightly in my fist.
He raises an eyebrow at me. "Now, there's really no need for that. I am Lucien Lachance, a Speaker for the Dark Brotherhood."
"I know what the Dark Brotherhood is. They kill people for money." My voice is barely a whisper, and Lucien smiles.
"Yes, and you are a killer. Your work…pleases the Night Mother." He leans against the wall a few feet away from me. "I come to you with an offering, an opportunity. Join our ranks, become a member of our…unique family." He smiles now, with teeth, and I can see the murder in his eyes. This man has taken many lives and hasn't felt a single ounce of remorse.
I shake my head and open my mouth to deny him, but Lucien's voice cuts over mine. "Before you refuse me, I want you to think hard. Think about how weak you felt, when he was torturing you, and how liberating it was to kill him. I can make you strong and empowered. Men wouldn't dare to touch you." His silky, deep voice brings back the memory of earlier. I look at the dagger in my hand.
I'm nobody, just a farm girl, and the farm is my home…right? Though, I felt stronger than I ever had. I won, he lost. The two dueling arguments play out in my head and Lucien Lachance waits patiently, studying the expressions as they cross my face.
No, I'm meant to get married, have lots of children, harvest eggs and milk cows, like any good girl does. I'm meant to please my family.
The other argument fights back. I killed Tristeran. I liked it. If I were to…accept…I'd have adventures like I always dream about. I'd be free, each day would be new…I'd never have to worry about a man trying to take something from me, or anyone for that matter. I could control their lives, I could be the master of my own destiny.
I stare down at the dagger in my hand and my head clears up, slight tears coming to my eyes, though I blink them away.
"What do I have to do?" I look up to see a look of approval on Lucien's face. Seeing him look at me like that almost makes me want to try to please him. It's been a while since someone's been proud of me for something.
"Listen carefully. On the green road to the North of Braviil lies the Inn of Ill Omen. There you will find a man named Rufio. Kill him, and your initiation into the Dark Brotherhood will be complete. Do this, and the next time you sleep in a location I deem secure, I will reveal myself once more, bearing the love of your new family."
"Isn't it kind of creepy that you like to sneak up on people while they sleep?" The lack of sleep causes the thought to burst from my mouth, and I turn bright red.
Lucien looks amused. "Perhaps," is all he says, then he waits for me to respond to his offer.
I'll have a new family, I'll be free. "Yes, I'll do it." I glance again at the dagger in my hand.
"Excellent." The word rolls off his tongue in an almost musical quality, then he slowly steps forward, in a very non-threatening way, and grabs my hand. Turning it over, he pulls the iron dagger from my hand and instead places a beautiful, sharp curved dagger with dark, polished metal and a red leather hilt.
"Please accept this token from the Dark Brotherhood. It is…a virgin blade, and it thirsts for blood." His emphasis on the word makes me narrow my eyes at him, and again Lucien looks amused. His expression reveals that he clearly intended to compare me to the dagger now in my hand, which is probably why he gave it to me.
"Thank you. It's beautiful." I run a finger over the blade, careful not to cut myself. He nods at me.
"I bid you farewell, Lady Zarissis." I jump at the use of the word and he smiles devilishly.
"Wait! I have a question!" He lifts his head slightly and keeps his gaze locked on me.
"You have my full attention."
I bite my lip, unsure of how to ask this. "How…do you know about what happened? Did you…watch me? Was that you following me?"
He raises a hand to silence me. "The Dark Brotherhood has its ways." With that, he pushes up off the wall and approaches the doorway. Right before he is about to exit, he turns around to face me slightly.
"…Yes, I watched you." With that he disappears entirely, leaving me holding a blade and questioning his intentions. Will I really kill this guy named Rufio? Then I blush when I realize what Lucien meant by watched me. He saw me undressed…and hurt. He saw me kill…Where was he at that he saw this?
The thought leaves me uneasy, but I still know what I want to do. In the morning there will be guards everywhere…my parents surely won't let me leave. Is this what I want?
Yes. This is what I want. I want to grow up, see the world, and be able to choose my own path.
I lay down in bed as a plan forms in my mind. Tomorrow I'll be here, to assure them that it was a murder…then that night, I'll leave a note, saying I'm sorry, and I'll run.
This is absolutely crazy, but maybe I'm crazy.