AUTHOR: Elizabeth E. Carter
TITLE: You'd Do Well To Remember That
SERIES: Elder Scrolls / Skyrim
RATING: T
SUMMARY: I loath Maven Black-Briar. She needs a lesson in manners. Female Dunmer Dovahkiin
DISCLAIMER: Bethesda owns the concept of Skyrim and all of its characters. This fanfic is for entertainment and no profit what-so-ever. My Dovahkiin is the only thing I own of the story. Harsh language, Maven bashing so be warned.
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"…..you'd do well to remember that the next time you make such a stupid observation." Maven Black-Briar's tone grew cold and sharp, her eyes burned in obvious contempt.
Brynjolf raved about his newest recruit as if she were Nocturnal's own blessing. Fool. He'd pay for this insult. What was he thinking sending her? A sodding ice-brained gray-skin. Granted all dark elves were thieves, still this one could hardly be considered competent. To ask such obvious insolent questions. The Black-Briars were the Rift!
Blood red eyes glowered. The mild curiosity in the angular face changed as swiftly as the flurries of snow fall. Something else reflected now in those eyes, something more frigide than the North wind. Maven hadn't even seen her move, now the gray skin was as close to her as a lover. Pale blue lips close to her ear. Malice and loathing filled the voice that was once friendly and aloof.
"I despise rudeness; apparently Nord nobility are utterly incapable of true civility. But alas you are only a human and not mer, how can you grasp a concept such as good manners? I will say this once human. I am Dovahkiin. I converse with dragons; do you truly think to terrify me with your mere terrestrial threats? I've killed more than forty of those beasts and consumed their souls. My greatest prey and enemy is Alduin the World Eater, and I will have him. I will devour his soul as I have so many dovah."
Maven had heard that a Dunmer was the Dragonborn, but she had not thought to encounter her. The rumors were abound in Skyrim of the great feats of the Dovahkiin. She had the power of the Thu'um, greater than Ulfric's command of the Voice, for his was learned while the Dragonborn's talents came from her very blood. A birthright. She had slain more than four dozen dragons single-handedly. It was said the woman was without fear for she ran directly-deliberately into battle with the blighted creatures.
"More than that, human, you have invoked the name of the Dark Brotherhood, without the eyes to see what leathers I wear. That, I find the most grievous of insults. I am the Dark Brotherhood. And I swear by Sithis, I will send my Dread Father your loathsome soul without the dark ritual having been preformed."
The unfamiliar feeling of dread filled Maven's body. The ice in the girl's voice filled the older woman's blood as she hissed:
"We are not in the palm of your hand as that fool Mercer who heads the Thieves' Guild. We do not cower simply because your name is spoken. You can never command us! You have no dominion over the Brotherhood. I am as if birthed from the Unholy Matron's very womb by the dread Father's seed. I am the child of Sithis.
"I am the Night Mother's Listener. I am their chosen." A baleful smile slid across the ashen-blue face. "Who do you think it was that slew the Emperor's cousin at her own wedding? Or the Man, himself on his own ship?" The smiled darkened. "Truly they were glorious kills. I am but one woman and I did what took the Mythic Dawn several to do two hundred years ago. What are you to me old crone but a pebble in my boot?"
The blade at the human's throat bit deeper. A ribbon of blood grew upon pale Nord flesh. "This is the Blade of Woe, once wielded by Astrid the former Mistress of the Skyrim Sanctuary. By the Night Mother's own command, I killed my sister and took her prized weapon from her chard dead hand. The name of the blade has more meaning to me than you can possibly fathom. But it will bring a smile to my lips to have the blade create a little ruby necklace along that wrinkled neck for you.
"I will be generous only this once you withed old hag and allow your miserable pampered pretentious life to continue. I will not hunt your sons or that cute daughter of yours because of your insolence. Pray to your Eight Divines that my benevolence continues. Do you understand human?"
Maven managed to nod.
"Good. The true patriarch of the Silverbloods once made the same mistake you did. He was corrupt and very rude. I escaped his accursed mine after I slaughtered all the prisoners and the guards. I then gutted the slimy git in the street just like a skeever. The children and wives of the corrupt guards that dared to pin murders I did not commit upon me, lay dead. The lamentations of those men were hymns to Sithis. 'You'd do well to remember that the next time you make such a stupid remark'.
"I play the part of novice thief only because it amuses me to do so. Having a foothold within the guild is…covenant for the Brotherhood but not completely necessary. Now I'm going to go play with some barbarian Nord and his meedary, because you can't handle a little healthy competition. I will be back when I have completed the job."
As swiftly was the Dunmer was in Maven's personal space, she was gone from matriarch's side. She spun on her heel and with swift soundless grace the elf literally vanished from sight.
True terror resided in Maven Black-Briar's heart. Oh yes she had had dealings with the Dark Brotherhood. She had preformed the profane the dark ritual more than once. Astrid, Mistress of the assassins had come to her and taken the contracts. But Astrid had not brought the dread that was within that elven woman. None of the assassins Maven had come in contact with over the years had have chilled her so. The blood red eyes were as cold and as deep as the Void.
She had overplayed her hand, had underestimated the dark elf. It was something Maven would never do again. The Listener…she who was Dragonborn had all but declared herself Maven Black-Briar's enemy. She was alive only because the Listener allowed it.
Typically when an enemy of the Black-Briar's had dared raise its head; Maven was swift to cut it down. Her ties within the Empire were either dead or were unwilling to move against the Dovahkiin. While the Black-Briar reputation amongst the plebs of Skyrim, of the Rift feared Maven because of her ties to the Dark Brotherhood, none knew the truth of it. The dark band of assassins was not on retainer as she had the Thieves guild; Maven had merely been a contract holder, nothing more. Anyone else in the same situation could have boasted to the same claim, that they had connections to the assassins.
Astrid might have been a political minded woman, but this Dunmer, this…Dragonborn Listener was nothing of the sort. She was as she said, a child of Sithis. No, politics did not motivate her; power outside that of the dovah did not move her, only the service to the Night Mother did. No doubt in her ruby eyes Astrid had been a heretic, even if it was as it sounded she lamented over killing her sister.
Maven had to repair the damage. Anyone who regularly dined upon the souls of dragons was not one with whom to fuck. Again fear held Maven firmly rooted in the chair she had sat upon during the exchange she had with the assassin.
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Several days later her prize stallion Frost was gone missing, her eldest son Sibbi lay dead in his cell under Mistveil Keep. His throat had been slit. No one saw anything. The guards and other inmates spoke only the feeling of 'cold and absolute darkness. As if a piece of the Void had reached out and touched them.' Her only daughter Ingun was known throughout the Rift to share the Dragonborn's bed.
Maven was accustomed to having enemies. Anyone with power had enemies. What she hadn't counted on was a slip of a girl that outward did not look all that impressive to be amongst them. She new it had all come down to that meeting in the Bee and Barb. If she had been more observant about the uniform, if she took care to note the darkness behind those ruby eyes. But she had not, she had scoffed that the girl's insolence-calling her stupid as not to know the Black-Briar power.
The message very clear. 'I can steal what is yours, fuck what is yours, kill what is yours. And you cannot do a damned thing about it. You'd do well to remember that…'