Hi, all! Here's a random little drabble. I only own Shealyne(who can be quite a bitch). Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy.
At times, Shealyne could not tell who was worse: she, herself or Mathieu Bellamont. Both were traitors to the Dark Brotherhood-and rightfully so. Deserving of death, the both of them. The woman had found it odd, how in the Brotherhood's eyes, the pair were evil, and in need of being destroyed-not that the assassin's guild had known of their betrayal. They had known what was the threat, but not whom.
Were Shealyne just a few years younger, she would have never betrayed the Dark Brotherhood. Would have never allowed a man like Mathieu Bellamont to live. Would never allow him to kill her friends, her family. But she was allowing the man to do just that-even aiding him, if tiptoeing in the dark. Lachance could not know. Lachance could never know of her involvement.
Bellamont had seen the Brotherhood as evil. Shealyne did not. She saw then as a blend of grey-necessary, yet unnecessary. Evil, yet good. But it did not matter. The Dark Brotherhood was a poison, and the pair already had it's black taint coursing through their very beings. They were a part of the organization for so long, it's values and loyalty ties were practically a part of them. Blending the black, the white, and the grey.
When the woman was younger, she had seen the Dark Brotherhood as white. Mathieu had viewed them as black-always black. But now, to some extent, both had viewed the guild as a shade of grey-for the taint had affected their minds.
Both had become people they had never wanted to become. Bellamont had never wanted to become a murderer, nor Shealyne an undead beast. Both had done terrible things just to stay alive, to keep on winning in a game where the prize was living and the failure was dying. They had both become monsters-as sick and twisted as the other. Shealyne had done heinous crimes to simply stay alive, to keep fighting, to keep living. Mathieu had done unspeakable deeds in the name of ambition, vengeance and lust.
Shealyne had known that Mathieu had murdered Maria, and had wondered whether she would share a similar fate. If she would, then it was bound to happen, though she could not figure out why Bellamont would seek her life in the end. She had understood where he was coming from. She knew he wanted to be free, and write the wrongs of murders' past, and future. The man was, after all, ultimately performing his suicidal acts out of love. He had loved his mother-which Lachance had robbed him of. And he had loved Maria-who was far too tainted by the Brotherhood's poison to see, see beyond the family ties bound in bloody hands. Mathieu was killing himself out of love. Shealyne understood. She was killing herself, too.
Indeed, the Breton woman would do anything for her sons. And now, Lucien Lachance had held them out of her reach, and had the woman teetering to perform her duties without error. Lucien had known about her children-her young sons-knew of their existence, their location. The Speaker was using her children against her, as leverage. While Shealyne had always maintained a compatible, respectable appearance when dealing with her dear Speaker, that topic would always linger in the air, though never spoken. The topic of her children-the threat on their lives-had always just hung upon the tips of the tongues, words unspoken yet filling the air pregnant with a silent knowledge that her children's lives were at the mercy Lucien Lachance.
The knowledge that Shealyne could not defend her babies had shattered her core and driven her to paranoia. No matter how hard she had tried to keep them safe from their mother's sins, her actions were just never enough. She had loved her Dark Brothers and Sisters-even Lachance, despite the cruel circumstances-but she had loved her sons far more. She knew to protect her sons, she needed to survive. She knew in order to protect her sons, Lucien Lachance must die. She knew that her sons would not be safe until the Brotherhood was annihilated. And Mathieu would help her. She would help him, and they would both be free.
Thinking, perhaps that is why Bellamont had accepted her, trusted her-she dared to say even love. He knew she had still retained some form of her humanity despite being an undead beast. Perhaps it was even because her maternal instincts were protect were much like his own mother's when Bellamont was a boy. Shealyne would never know. What she did know, however, was that once upon a time, there was a young girl who did not want to be a dead creature. She also knew that there was once a young boy who did not want to murder.
In becoming what they did not want, the people that they were-their true humanity of the past-had died. They had lost themselves along the way, to grief, rage and poison. They had both become mere shadows of their former selves that could have been something greater; now mere creatures of blood and violence, a pact bound in shadows and hidden blades.
Shealyne knew that in order to keep her sons safe-truly safe-she would need to die. The sins of her past, the blood driven beast she had become was too wild, the taint too strong. Only in death would her sons be safe from her and her mistakes, her shame. But until then, both Silencers would plot and kill in the names of their loved ones. Shealyne had know both she and Mathieu would do anything to see their pact succeed, even if it meant destroying the lives of those caught in the mere crossfire, or simply killing just for the high-the risk.
At times, Shealyne couldn't even tell who was the true monster: she, or Mathieu Bellamont. Maybe they both were monsters.
Thank you for reading!
P.S. I have no idea why I pair Shea with Mathieu half the time, but I do. Oh wellz.