Edited: 18 April 2018
01
It began with flames—the worst of them always did.
While Dunmer were resistant to fire, the heat of Oblivion still pierced through her armor and seeped under her skin. This was the last place she would want to be, but she promised Martin—Martin with his beautiful brown eyes and gentle nature—that she would obtain the Great Sigil Stone even if it killed her.
Armed with the memory of his kind smile, she ploughed on, ignoring the bodies hung around the towers in warning. She snuck past the dremora when she could, and sliced her way through those that spotted her. When at last she reached the top of the tower, she could see the stone; it was larger than the usual ones she had collected from her gate traipsing, and she could feel its power anchoring the gate.
She stepped forward slowly, afraid that there would be any additional wards around the artifact. The beam of light emanating from it was blinding, but she didn't look away, afraid that she would miss when she made a grab for it.
A voice from behind her made her freeze in her steps.
"My dear, sweet, Silencer, whatever are you doing now?"
Her throat closed up, and she could hardly breathe as she turned to face the voice.
His black hand robes were immaculate, and his hood was up; she could see his eyes—black and empty as the void. He was alone as he usually was, but the chill that accompanied him when he showed himself was gone, swept away by the heat of Oblivion.
"Not even a hello?"
"Speaker," she whispered, her voice filled with longing and hope.
"Silencer," he answered in a soft voice. He spread his arms in a welcoming gesture so familiar to her that it made her heart ache.
She longed to run to him and be enveloped in his arms. She wanted to believe that he was here, whole and well.
But most of all, she wanted to go down on her knees and beg for his forgiveness, because she knew she had failed him.
Squeezing her eyes shut to block out his visage, she braced herself for the words she was about to say. "You're dead."
"Yes, I am," the shock at hearing him confirm it, made her open her eyes. Her shock slowly gave way to horror as he walked towards her. He changed with every step he took: his robes became tattered, his skin was slowly peeling, his long hair fell off and various welts appeared across his body.
Suddenly, it wasn't just him. All of them were there, behind him, moving towards her in a dream-like state. Gogron, the crimson slash across his throat as wide as his grin; Antoinetta Marie, her innocent smile frozen on her white skin and blue lips; Vicente, his eyes red as the blood flowing freely from his chest. Even Ungolim was there, his body littered with the stab wounds she'd inflicted on him.
She fell backward as Lucien lunged towards her. Kicking him away, she tried to stand up, but he locked her legs and she fell forward, her chin colliding with the hard floor. The Speaker was upon her in an instant, his decaying body pinning her to the floor. His mouth attacked hers brutally, leaving the taste of his blood on her tongue. A gasp of pain escaped her lips as he bit her neck. Her head was spinning and bile was rising up her throat. This—this was not Lucien.
She fumbled for the dagger on her belt. Once she had a solid grip on the hilt, she raised it and plunged it into Lucien's temple. While it didn't stop him, it made him pause in his ministrations and gave her time to shove him away. She pushed herself up and stumbled backwards, unable to regain her footing after what happened. Turning away, she jumped and grabbed the Sigil Stone.
The stone was safely in her grasp, but the Deadlands didn't disappear as she fell. It continued twisting and morphing, showing her the interior of Applewatch farm, the Cheydinhal Sanctuary, her prison cell, and the Temple of One—Martin's last smile swam in front of her eyes, his last kiss lingering on her lips—
Talia Indoril woke up with a start. On instinct, she draw the dagger from under her pillow and threw the furs off her, instantly alert and on-guard. She surveyed her room for any intruders and listened carefully for anything out of the ordinary. There was nothing but the sound of the habitants of the Arcane University waking up to greet the morning.
Her breath was coming in harsh gasps, and she released her shaky grip on the dagger to let it fall on her bed. Drawing her legs to her chest, she buried her head in her arms, attempting to calm herself.
It's not real. It's over. They're dead. They're not coming back.
The mantra was repeated over and over, as she did almost every morning, until she stopped shivering, and her grip on her arms no longer threatened to leave any bruises.
The Oblivion Crisis had been over for two years, but Talia felt like she was reliving it every night. The Brotherhood she had joined—the one she now led—had been reformed around the same time. Although it had been a long time, the deaths of everyone in the guild still heavily weighed on her conscience, especially since the Purification had been for naught.
At times, she would blame Lucien for everything; she would curse and spit his name until she broke down and begged for forgiveness. She felt unhinged, unbalanced; she had joined both the Mages Guild and the Fighter's Guild to try to find something to distract her.
Sometimes, she felt her old self resurfacing; she would occasionally crack a smile at Modryn's dry wit, and roll her eyes at High Chancellor Ocato's self-importance, but moments like these reminded her why she had stopped being that person in the first place.
But, she had indulged herself for too long, she had four factions to run, and Sithis knew how they would ever function without her. After cleaning up at the wash basin, she shrugged into the battlemage robes she had commissioned. They were not as gaudy as they said someone of her station should be wearing, but it protected her far better than her Arch-Mage robes. Plus, it came in black and grey—something she was grateful for after they tried to put her in red and gold.
She surveyed herself in the mirror critically, wondering if she looked presentable enough. There was a time when she hadn't cared a whit about her appearance, but she learned its value. Being under the constant scrutiny of every eye in Cyrodiil made her realize that it was important not just to be powerful, but to also look the part.
The Dunmer in the mirror glared at her. Her pronounced cheek bones and angular face made her appear severe. Long, black hair was pulled back and the tresses that escaped her bun framed her face. Her skin was grey enough not to clash with her clothes, and blue enough not to blend with it. Her dark red eyes did not help to soften her look, and she arranged her expression into that of seriousness rather than anger.
Satisfied with her appearance, she made her way down to her office and settled down at her desk to begin paperwork. It was routinary, but it kept her distracted. She scanned the documents and sorted them into piles. The missives from various nobles and politicians were set aside. After everything she'd done for Cyrodiil, she believed she was entitled to ignore a few party invites that were of no importance. She couldn't help the small smirk that quirked her lips as she spotted an invite from Count Umbranox. While he wanted to do nothing with her after he'd passed the Grey Cowl to her, propriety forced him to invite her to every gathering they hosted. She would show up at times just to annoy him.
Most of the documents were updates from various guildhalls, new spells created, the status of apprentices, filed complaints and such. The one from the Bravil Guild Hall caught her eye. Kud-Ei had never forgotten the help she'd extended in saving Henantier, and in turn, the Argonian had kept an eye out for any strange occurrences and rumors around Bravil. Not so much because Talia liked hearing the latest gossip, but more to do with the fact that the Brotherhood's activities might be noticed. A woman in black robes was once reported often lurking about the Lucky Old Lady Statue at odd hours. Of course that would have been her, and she'd been Listening. But it proved her point, and Kud-Ei's reports have helped her with arranging her transactions at the Bravil Sanctuary.
There have been rumors of a strange doorway opening in an island in the middle of Niben Bay. Although they did not strike us as an Oblivion Gate, some townsfolk are worried it might be the second coming of Dagon. I humbly request that you send some mages to study it, and perhaps some members of the Fighter's Guild to guard them. The guardsmen at Bravil have been informed, but Captain Varania has refused our requests.
Talia bared her teeth, Varania wasn't even half the woman Viera Lerus was. The woman had taken down about twenty Dremora with her before she died—and that was when she'd been stabbed in the arm.
While she didn't think that the doorway that appeared was a gate to the Deadlands, there was a chance it was still an Oblivion Gate. Portals did not simply appear out of nowhere after all. She could send anyone to examine the rumors, but she'd been itching for something to do for a long time. Besides, she needed to travel to Bravil to visit Mother anyway.
By the time she'd reviewed the documents and either signed or incinerated them, it was already late afternoon. It was a rare day when she would only be interrupted once or twice by the arrival of additional missives and some lunch and snacks. Once she was done, Talia wrote a note to Raminus to ask someone to look for more soul gems for the Enchanting department, and asked a scribe to deliver the documents to him.
As she prepared for her trip to Bravil, she pondered on the nature of the door that appeared. She had already removed Dagon from the possible perpetrators, but it still left her with a lot of Daedric Princes. Sanguine, Mephala and Clavicus Vile had no real reason to send someone to their realms, as they enjoyed playing with the lives of mortals. Azura, Meridia and Nocturnal never opened their portals to mortals, unless they were their followers. She didn't think Peryite was powerful enough to open a gateway to his realm, and Vaermina dealt mostly with nightmares and dreamers. Those that remained were Boethiah, Hermaeus Mora, Hircine, Malacath, Molag Bal and Sheogorath; not a reassuring list of prospects.
She made sure she travelled with her essentials, her Blade of Woe and Sufferthorn were sheathed on her belt, and two more daedric daggers were in her boots. She opted to leave her Akaviri Blade as it was mostly ceremonial; she had neither the training, nor the upper body strength to swing the sword properly. The Ring of Khajiti was safely in her robe pocket, and she wore the Mundane ring on her right hand. While it reminded her of Mankar Camoran and less savory memories, the ring had proved itself incredibly useful. She placed two throwing needles in her bun in guise of hair ornaments. Magic was her most potent weapon, but it never hurt to be ready. Her Grey Cowl and Black Hand robes were in her pack, as well as a few books about the Translation Spell she'd been researching.
Talia passed by Raminus before she left the University, and she let him know she would be researching the doorway in Niben Bay. He knew better than to question her, and simply nodded and told her he'd take over the paperwork until she arrived.
Before heading out, she passed by Dareloth's house to check up on her Guild. It still amused her how differently the thieves treated her when she was bare-faced and when wearing the Cowl. Despite using the Elder Scroll to change the nature of the Cowl, it did nothing to break the strong daedric enchantments on it. None of them could associate her with the Grey Fox, as evidenced by the number of times she wore and removed the Cowl in their presence.
"The Grey Fox!" came Armand's usual awed greeting as she stepped inside.
"Greetings, Armand." she nodded and pulled out a list of possible targets she'd compiled in the last two weeks to give to the doyen.
"Thank you, Guildmaster," he smiled in appreciation as he scanned the list. "I'll check to see which ones we can use to test the new recruits."
"How many do we have?"
"We got a lot this month, about six of them. But I've been checking up on two of them, and we think they're related to some members of the Imperial Guard."
"Don't take the chance, Armand," she replied. Traitors were sometimes difficult to weed out, and she would not risk the entire guild for two above average Pickpockets. "Walk in shadow," she said in farewell as she stepped back out into the night.
Talia, considering her duties as Listener and as Arch-mage, had been thinking about passing on the title of Grey Fox to another in the Guild. She hadn't been on active duty since the end of the Oblivion Crisis, and it had been a while since she stole anything for the Guild. Armand was in her options, mostly because he had been a Doyen for so long, he knew the ins and outs of the Guild better than anyone. On the other hand, he most definitely lacked the charisma that came with wearing the Cowl. Methedrel was the other contender. She and Talia had been recruited at the same time, and they'd worked together in plenty of heists. The bosmer was cunning, smart, and was a sight more enigmatic than Armand.
She'd come to a decision by the end of the month, she decided. Niben Bay took precedence for now.
Even with Shadowmere, it took her around two days to get to Bravil. She probably could have arrived faster if she didn't stop; her rest at the Inn of Ill Omen seemed to be for naught, as she couldn't sleep at the onslaught of memories. It was early morning when she reached Bravil, and she left Shadowmere at the gates before entering the town. Naturally, her first stop was the Lucky Old Lady Statue.
More have offered prayers to their Mother …speak to Andrea Calvacanti in High Rock and J'sanza in Elseweyr…
It continued until Talia was sure she'd filled the entire vellum.
"Thank you, Mother," she murmured. As she moved to walk away, the Night Mother's voice echoed in her mind.
Our family's reach has extended outside of Cyrodiil. I am pleased with your progress, my Listener. You are truly worthy to be called a Child of Sithis.
Talia and the Night Mother had a complicated relationship. On Talia's part, there was most certainly hate, but there was an insistent need to please and gain Mother's approval as well. The dunmer was fairly certain that Mother didn't necessary like her, but she was the most competent assassin and Listener the Brotherhood has had in years.
There was also the small matter of Talia's soul belonging to Sithis.
Talia shook herself out of her reverie as she bowed at Mother's crypt.
"I live to serve," she said softly.
She slipped on the Ring of Khajiti, and made sure no one was following her when she entered the Bravil Sanctuary.
"Sister, welcome," a warm voice spoke as she entered. Lukas was one of the first murderers to be recruited into the Brotherhood after its reform. Now a member of the Black Hand, he had been given charge of the Bravil Sanctuary. She remembered how two years ago, he would bow and scrape at her feet and looked at her as if she were his salvation. He'd thankfully matured and lost his hero worship for her, and grown into a fine assassin and worthy leader.
Talia hadn't missed his likeness to Lucien, which she suspected was one of the reasons Arquen recruited him into the family. The altmer, while following her every order, still managed to aggravate her at every turn. When Arquen first brought him to the sanctuary, Talia had stopped cold and stared at him, and the altmer had asked in her most polite voice if something was the matter. Talia responded with a fist to Arquen's smug face—it was one of the few times she'd lost control over her emotions in front of the other assassins.
Arquen despised her, and the feeling was more than mutual. If it had been up to Talia, she would have eviscerated the altmer and left her in the Night Mother's Crypt along with her other brothers. Alas, the Night Mother herself ordered her to leave Arquen alive, and let her help with rebuilding the Brotherhood. So, Talia couldn't kill her, but that didn't mean she couldn't make life difficult for her. After a year, she'd moved Lukas from Cheydinhal to Bravil and made him her Silencer, while also transferring Arquen to the dullest city she could think of: Leyawiin. She had promoted Lukas to Speaker after a year, and put him in charge of Bravil Sanctuary.
"Brother," she inclined her head in greeting.
"What brings you to Bravil?"
"Rumors of strange doors in Niben Bay," she said. "And the Listener wished me to give you this." she handed him the list of names mentioned by the Night Mother, as well as their locations. Apart from the Black Hand, none of the members of the Family knew which of them was the Listener. Although it was only the two of them in the living area, it never hurt to be careful in a den of sneaks and cutthroats.
"I'll pass this on to our other brothers," he nodded as he scanned the list. "Have you eaten?"
"Yes," was her automatic reply, and her impassive face did not change at Lukas' raised eyebrow.
"Even so, please join me," he gestured to the seat in front of him, and while she could simply walk away, Lukas was one of the few people she actually liked and respected.
"Help yourself," he gestured to the platters of meat, bread and cheese on the table.
"No, thank you."
"You should eat."
"I'm not hungry."
"It's rude to refuse the hospitality of your host," he gave her an innocent look and Talia gave him a withering glare. She resigned herself to eating and grabbed a piece of bread to nibble on. Satisfied, Lukas started with his meal.
"I think I liked you better when you worshipped the ground I walked on," she grumbled.
"Oh I still worship you, but in a different way now."
Lukas gave her a wolfish grin, and it was times like this that she was reminded of how different he was from Lucien. While the former was all roguish charm and wit, the latter was full of cool smiles and icy politeness.
Still, his effort made her lips quirk upward.
"My goodness! Is that a smile I see?" he beamed at her, and was rewarded by a huff of laughter from Talia.
"Such impertinence. Keep this up and I'll demote you back to Murderer."
"Only if I get to follow you around Tamriel," he said cheekily.
Talia made a noise of amusement. "I don't think they'd let someone who can't even cast a basic flame spell into the Arcane University."
"Excuse you. I can manage a flame spell just fine."
"Oh? I must have been remembering a different, magic-incompetent Speaker."
"Don't be so rude, Talia! Keer-Das is a fine mage!" he mock-gasped.
At this, Talia threw her head back and laughed.
The door to the Sanctuary squeaked open, and the two immediately sobered. A Breton assassin entered muttering complaints under her breath about her recent contract. As she passed by their table, she didn't jump, but it was a close thing.
"Speaker Lukas!" she bowed, and she assessed Talia's robes in a quick glance before bowing to her as well. "Speaker."
"Eliminator Lillian." Lukas greeted professionally. "This is Speaker Talia of the Dawnstar Sanctuary in Skyrim."
"It's an honor, Speaker." Lillian bowed again.
"How was your last contract?"
Talia was content to sit and watch the two interact. It's been some time since she took a contract for the Brotherhood, opting to simply give it to the other Speakers. Killing wasn't something she necessarily enjoyed, but she hadn't minded it. Still, since Martin's death, she hadn't taken any assignments voluntarily. There were rare occasions when the Night Mother asked for her specifically, and Talia was certain it was simply another way for her to remind Talia whom she belonged to.
She was sick of it, but if she wanted her soul to go to the Void, to be reunited with her Family…
"Talia?"
Talia blinked up at Lukas, who had been calling her name for a while. His expression was carefully neutral, but she could sense his concern.
"I'm all right." She preempted.
Lukas simply nodded, but gently took her by the shoulders and steered her to his room. When they reached his chambers, Talia flopped down onto his bed. Lukas, after checking his locks, climbed beneath the covers and pulled her close.
He was the only Brother she trusted implicitly. Being her Silencer, Lukas had grown closer to her than any other member of their Family. He was there during the lowest point of her life, and he was still here, helping her pick up the pieces of her life that the Oblivion Crisis and the Purification had shattered. Despite the many tawdry rumors of their relationship, it was purely platonic. It was obvious they had feelings for each other, but both agreed it was a complication they couldn't afford. Especially since Talia still thought of both Lucien and Martin very often.
Still, it didn't stop Lukas from offering her some measure of comfort when they were together. Even if it was just simply holding her at night to stave off her nightmares.
The next morning, Talia roused to the safety of Lukas' arms. Despite wanting nothing more than staying in bed, she had quite a lot to do. She reluctantly pulled away and was making herself decent for the day when Lukas woke up.
"Talia? S'that you?" his voice was muffled by the sheets.
"Were you expecting someone else?" she asked in amusement as she combed her hair.
"Shut up. It's early." He yawned. "Do you want any company?"
"It'll be hard to explain who you are and why you're with me."
"Good point. Well if I'm not coming, I may as well get some more hours of sleep."
"Yes, and I'll do the walk of shame in full view of all your assassins before I leave." She replied cheerily.
There was silence before Lukas said in a horrified tone, "You wouldn't."
"Wouldn't I?" she shot back.
Lukas pulled back the sheets and sat up quickly. There was a pleading expression on his face. "The rumors had just died down. I can't take any more gossiping, have mercy on my sanity."
Unfortunately for Lukas, he had gathered the nosiest group of assassins out of all of them. And since, compared to the other Speakers, he was more relaxed with his Sanctuary members, they openly nagged and teased him about his love life.
Once she had deemed her appearance acceptable, she turned to Lukas and smirked. "Have a good day, Speaker Lukas." She bowed and exited the room, making sure to do so loudly. She could hear Lukas' curses as she left. Most of the Sanctuary members were already up, and they stared at her briefly before bowing to her as she passed. But Talia already saw the sparkling of intrigue and mischief in their eyes.
Talia rode Shadowmere to the edge of Bravil's shores, the shortest distance to the island. A simple water walking spell later, and she was striding across Niben Bay. From afar, she could see that there was a strange rock formation surrounding the portal. When she reached land, she took a good look at the doorway before groaning. The rock around the gate was sculpted in the form of a man screaming, his eyes bulding, with his mouth as the portal.
Of course it had to be Sheogorath. At least if it had been Boethiah, she could predict what sort of quest she'd be doing for the Daedric Prince.
"Halt! What do you think you're—Oh, Champion! I apologize, I didn't realize it was you!" A voice came from the side and she saw one Bravil guardsman. Well, it seems Varania decided she couldn't not act on the Mages' Guild's request. "You should step away from the gate," he warned. "Nothing good has come out of it," he gestured to the Khajit a few feet away, who was as skittish as a deer.
"Lovely," she muttered. Deciding to take her chances, since she was Sheogorath's Champion even if she'd left the Wabbajack behind, she stepped forward and extended a hand to touch the bright light.
"Well, it's your funeral—"
She barely heard the words. Her hand touched something like a viscous liquid and it started to suck her in. Talia took a deep breath and went with it. She kept her eyes closed as she felt herself being enveloped in it.
Unexpectedly, she was slammed to the ground by an unknown force, strong enough for her to grow dizzy. She heard an explosion in the distance, and as she struggled to get up, she peered at her surroundings.
Not even her best training could stop her from gaping at what she saw. Everything around was dark and tinged green. Various rocks and parts of a structure were floating high above her.
Wherever she was, she was most definitely not in Sheogorath's plane.
A/N: My first crossover fic! I hope you like it so far! Insights and comments are always welcome! Lemme know what you think! :)
I doubt it's obvious, but Lukas is the male Dark Brotherhood Murderer that appears in Cheydinhal Sanctuary at the end of the Brotherhood questline. His name and character is inspired from a fic I read somewhere here on ffnet about his likeness to Lucien Lachance. I can't find it right now, but I'll link it when I find it again.