Title: Vicissitudes
Author: BurningSilence
Rating: R (I'll let everyone know if it goes up)
Disclaimer: No, it's not mine. I'd sell my kidney to own any of the games in the Elder Scrolls series. They belong to the talented people at Bethesda. Obviously, the only character who belongs to me is Felicienne, and anyone else who doesn't seem at all familiar.
Summary: Chronicles a young Breton's journey through at least two of the quest lines in Oblivion (the main quest, and Dark Brotherhood) after the completion of the Shivering Isles quest line. Also, possible romance. Just wanted to give everyone a head's up.
Chapter I: The Hooded Man
Felicienne Sauveterre had already decided she had had a strange month. Possibly the strangest she'd ever had. No, it was definitely the strangest…no 'possibly' about that.
She had woken up in the Imperial Prison with out any recollection of how she came to be there, (she suspected there was more than just a nasty bump on the head at fault for that,) then was verbally abused by some aggravating Dunmer (call her a stuck up harlot, will he?), then some how became caught up in trying to protect the late Emperor Uriel Septim VII (while trying to escape, of course), and, as the Emperor lay dying, she was entrusted to deliver the Amulet of Kings to a man named Jauffre in Chorrol, and find the Emperor's son.
And then it became complicated.
Of course, as she was making her way towards Chorrol (and by the Nine, her head still felt a bit fuzzy), she made a wrong turn. Or rather, she didn't make a turn at all. She made her way to the Red Ring Road, followed it, then completely missed the Black Road! Had she taken the Black Road, she would have made it to Weynon Priory within a couple days and this whole business could have been done with by now.
But no, not Felicienne, who decided she didn't need to ask directions, even though she'd only been in Cyrodiil for a few days before this mess began. Whose stubbornness and pride made sure she wound up in Bravil of all places. Bravil, where she heard rumours of a strange door that had opened in the Niben Bay. And, of course, hearing these rumours lit a spark of interest in her curious little mind.
So what did she do?
She went!
She swam her self over to the tiny island that held the doorway, and found herself becoming a 'champion' for a Daedric Prince.
Wonderful.
As she ran through Sheogorath's little 'gambit' as she had liked to call it, she had met the most curious man who had asked her to do him a tiny, little favour. Hirrus Clutumnus had wanted her to kill him.
Yeah, that had surprised her too.
Thankfully, all of that had been taken care of, and she was now the Madgod of the Shivering Isles. Not that that had been her plan, she had just assumed she'd be stopping the Greymarch and Sheogorath would continue on ruling his Realm. But things could never work out that simply, now could they?
However, with all of that insanity going on, she hadn't taken the time to…appreciate the ramifications of Hirrus Clutumnus' request…and her fulfilling of it.
Oh, she hadn't been able to help it, he looked so miserable, and looking at him had conjured up images of a long forgotten uncle and how deep his melancholy had gone.
She wasn't able to say no to him.
So she ever so gently nudged him off a balcony and granted him his peace. Then she grabbed his key and took her reward from his house. She still had the letter he had written, and had actually cried while reading it. He had so reminded her of her mother's brother…
She sighed as she settled in her bed for the night at the Lonely Suitor's Lodge, reading that day's edition of the Black Horse Courier. She checked the date and her eyes widened.
"Oh for pity's sake," she muttered. "I can't believe it's already the 30th of Heartfire, and I still haven't delivered that damn amulet."
She put the paper away and just stared at the ceiling.
"I should have just stayed in High Rock," she murmured as she felt sleep begin to engulf her.
"You sleep rather soundly for a murderer," a smooth voice remarked.
At that, Felicienne's eyes snapped open as she jumped straight out of her bed.
"That's good," the voice's carrier continued, as if coming into people's bedroom in the middle of the night were normal. "You'll need a clear conscience for what I'm about to propose."
"Who are you? Explain yourself!" she exclaimed, while trying to discreetly reach for her sword, Duskfang.
The hooded man just smiled indulgently (and she though a mite condescendingly), "In due time, dear child, in due time." She bristled at being called 'child'. Damn it, she was nineteen years old, she was an adult!
"First, an introduction: I am Lucien Lachance, Speaker for the Dark Brotherhood, and you," he paused, and continued, "You are a cold-blooded killer capable of taking a life with out mercy or remorse. The Night Mother has been watching, and she is most pleased."
Felicienne was a little confused, drowsy and confused, and it must have shown on her face, because Lucien ("That's Mr. Lachance!" her mother's voice screamed at her) elaborated.
"And so, here I am. I come to you with an offering. An opportunity…to join our rather unique family."
She finally was able to regain her composure as he was speaking, well, enough to remember her mother's propriety lessons, "Please continue, Mr. Lachance."
"I find you etiquette refreshing," at this, his tone became less jovial and his face serious. "Now please, listen carefully. On the Green Road, to the north of Bravil 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."
Suddenly, his countenance lightened as he continued on in a more cheerful tone, "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."
As she thought about this, she realized that her killing that poor bloke in Crucible had set all this in motion, but that had been a mercy killing, nothing cold-blooded. She certainly had not relished in Hirrus' demise.
"But, I'm no murderer…" she murmured, more to herself than Lucien.
At this, the man seemed genuinely surprised, "No? The Night Mother seems to think so."
He into a satchel that was at his waist, and began to pull an object out, with Felicienne keeping her eyes trained on him, just to make sure he wasn't going to try any 'funny business'. But all he did was pull out a dagger and presented it to her.
"However, if you change your mind, please, accept this token from the Dark Brotherhood. It is a virgin blade, and thirsts for blood. May it serve your endeavors well."
She took the dagger from him and examined it, it really was quite beautiful. And very light, a far cry from Duskfang. She brushed a strand of her hair out of her face as she looked up to hear him speak again.
"Now, I bid you farewell. I do hope we'll meet again soon," he stated almost longingly. Again, his mood changed for the more serious with a blink of an eye, "Your path is clear. Send Rufio to his death, and the Dark Brotherhood will welcome you as family."
Then he disappeared, seemingly into thin air, and soon she could no longer sense his presence.
She looked down at the blade in her hand and thought; again, 'I should have just stayed in High Rock.'
The next day, after Felicienne was able to finally get back to sleep the night before, she headed out, following the directions Mr. Lachance had given her to the Inn of Ill Omen.
'Nice name,' she thought. 'The inn keep must not have much business. I can't believe I'm doing this; I'm actually on my way to kill someone I know absolutely nothing about. I'm following directions from some peeping tom who came into my room in the middle of the night…what in Oblivion is wrong with me?'
She reached up and swept her long, black hair back into a ponytail, muttering to herself all the while.
"…must be out of my damn mind. Too much time spent in Sheogorath's--my—Realm…with all the other nutters over there…"
Needless to say, she received several confused and slightly frightened looks from passersby.
She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to figure out what reasons were compelling her to go. Well, the first, and glaringly obvious, was her damned curiosity. And the second was something she was a little bit more embarrassed to think on. She had found Mr. Lachance fascinating! That, and that she had found herself lonely since her family had perished when their home in Jehanna had been targeted by Necromancers. Her older brother had been a member of the Mages Guild and had, with out a doubt, made some enemies due to his fervent advocacy of the ban of necromancy, and was a zealous supporter of Arch Mage Traven. Their parents were so proud, and so was she, but she had worried something horrible was going to happen. And it did, and the bastards didn't even have the decency to leave their bodies alone. Felicienne had come back home from visiting a friend in Evermor only to have the corpses of her parents and brother attack her on site.
She'd almost died that day.
It was shortly after that she moved to Cyrodiil. She had wanted to get as far away from her 'home' as she possibly could. Unfortunately, she'd only been in Cyrodiil for a week before she woke up to find herself in the Imperial Prison.
"And my life continues on becoming more and more complex," she muttered. By now, the sun was already starting to set and she could see the outline of an inn. She hoped it was the right one.
As she ran the rest of the way, she noticed the sign did, in fact, read "Inn of Ill Omen".
"Thank the Nine," she sighed and stepped inside.
"Welcome to the Inn of Ill Omen, friend!" announced the cheery Nord behind the main desk…if you could call it a desk.
Nevertheless, Felicienne smiled graciously and approached him. "Do you happen to know if a man named Rufio is here?" she inquired sweetly. It couldn't hurt to butter him up some.
"Eh, Rufio, you say?" he asked. She nodded, keeping the smile on her face. He smiled back and said, "Yeah, he's here. He's an old codger, lives in the basement, or as I like to call it, Rufio's private rooms," he chuckled. "But what do I care, he pays his tab, just don't expect a warm greeting from him, he seems to like his privacy. Between you and me, I think he's hiding from something," the large man finished in a conspiratorial whisper.
'Yeah, I bet,' she thought, sardonically. "Thank you, I promise I won't keep him long," she promised.
"Just remember, if you need a room to stay in, think of the Inn of Ill Omen…and tell your friends!"
She walked to the cellar door and climbed down, wondering what this Rufio fellow did to warrant his death. She made her way to a bedroom and let herself in. As she looked at the old man lying on the bed, she couldn't help but feel like she would be doing something wrong, something unforgivable if she were to kill him. Nothing he did could have been that bad.
However, she had enough sense to know appearances were deceiving, so she shook him awake.
He bolted upright and said, "No! Get away from me! I didn't do nothing wrong!"
She contemplated this and decided to test her theory.
"Oh, but you did, Rufio," she murmured softly.
At this, his face turned ashen, "No! Please! I didn't mean to do it, you understand me? She struggled! I…I told her to just stay still, but she wouldn't listen! I had no choice!" And then he bolted to the next room, leaving Felicienne feeling angry, and sick. She covered her mouth with her hand, she hadn't realized…
Then she took off after him, cornering him in the storeroom, and took her dagger and stabbed him in the back. Cowards like him didn't deserve the honour of being killed face to face. He emitted a soft, strangled scream and fell.
Felicienne wiped off her blade with Rufio's shirt and closed both of the doors before she left the cellar.
As she emerged, she heard the innkeeper say, "Were you able to talk to him?"
Panicking for a second, she responded, "Uh, no…no. I knocked on his door but no answer. Must have been sleeping. Or ignoring me." Here she let out a slightly nervous laugh, but the Nord didn't seem to notice.
"Haha, yeah, I told you he liked his privacy."
"Hmm, yes, you did. I guess I'm too stubborn sometimes," she laughed feeling a bit better, but still out of sorts. "Hey, what do you have to drink around here?"
She went to bed that night still feeling pleasantly light headed from the ale she had consumed earlier, and she was still getting over the fact she'd killed someone, and had gotten away with it. No one seemed to notice anything wrong, which was lucky for her, but not so lucky for Rufio.
'Bastard,' she thought viciously. 'Death was too good for him.'
She was still angry about what she'd learned about him, but pleased she'd been the one to mete out his punishment. A strange feeling but not a wholly unwelcome one.
She felt her eyes begin to droop, weighed down by her mixed feelings and ale, and the extremely late hour this was, she decided it was time to surrender to sleep.
She woke up suddenly, and peered out the window, noting that it was still dark. What had woken her up? She felt something…off about her room.
It wasn't long before she had her answer.
"So, the deed is done," came a, by now, familiar voice. "How do I know this? You will find the Dark Brotherhood knows a great many things. For you are now part of the family."
She looked around a bit, her eyes adjusting, and her gaze came to rest on Lucien Lachance by the doorway.
She swallowed and asked, "Now what?"
He smiled, "Now heed my words. For the slaying of Rufio was the signing of a covenant. The manner of execution, your signature. Rufio's blood, the ink. As a Speaker of the Black Hand, I directly oversee a particular group of family members. You will join that group, and fulfill any contracts given. You must now go to the city of Cheydinhal, to the abandoned house near the eastern wall. Enter the basement, and attempt to open the Black Door. You will be asked a question. Answer thusly: 'Sanguine, my Brother.' You will gain entrance to the Sanctuary. Once inside, speak to Ocheeva."
His mood turned serious once again, "We must now take our leave of each other, you and I, for there is much work to be done. I'll be following…you're progress. Welcome to the family."
Then he disappeared…again. 'I'm going to have to learn that spell,' she thought. She was so tired, but she could not find it in herself to relax enough to get back to sleep.
She decided she'd just wait here until morning before she went off to Cheydinhal, and then she would make her way to Chorrol, drop off the Amulet of Kings, and hopefully that would be it. Although, if a dying man's words held any credence, she may have a bit more in store for her than just a simple delivery. But she didn't want to think about that just yet.
She could see out of her window the sky turning a faint shade of pink at the horizon, she guessed that it had been later than she originally thought when she first woke up. She got out of bed, packed her belongings up, and headed out. She had a feeling it would be a long day.
She made her way to Cheydinhal in a bit of a daze. She was exhausted, hungry, and just frustrated. Seemed like today of all days all the bandits wanted to come out, just to hassle her. She showed them though, didn't even need a sword. They're handy things, destruction spells, really.
She stopped in front of the eastern get to Cheydinhal and stretched her arms over her head and popped her neck, she was so tired, and so sore. She couldn't wait to find a place to crash tonight.
'Alright, abandoned house, I have to find an abandoned house,' she kept thinking as she took in the décor of the city. 'It is very lovely here,' she mused. 'Maybe, after all of this is done, I'll move here, on a more permanent basis.' Or maybe she'd just say to Oblivion with it all and run away to New Sheoth and never come back. Although, as she thought it, she knew she wouldn't, she was a glutton for punishment.
As she continued her internal dialogue, her gaze came upon an old, boarded up house. She assumed that that must have been the house Mr. Lachance had spoken of. She made her way over to it quietly, and thank the Divine she had the cover of darkness on her side. Once she got there, she tried the door handle and noted with dismay, it was locked.
Picking locks was not her forte.
So she pulled out the ten or so lock picks she'd accumulated throughout the Shivering Isles, (as well as prison), and began to attempt to open the door. To her surprise (and relief) it only took two lock picks before she worked the door open.
"What a dive," she mumbled as she looked around. "It looks like whoever was here before left in a hurry," hmm, she wondered why.
She noticed the door to the basement and made her way through it only to find the basement had an eerie red glow coming from the other side. Felicienne followed the glow until she found herself in front of a door with a red hand at the top, and a picture of a woman with five children. She reached for the doorknob when a hissing voice came out of nowhere and asked, "What…is the colour…of night?"
She looked around at first, a little startled, then cleared her throat and answered: "S-sanguine, my brother…"
The door swung open and the same voice replied, "Welcome…home."
She walked through the door and into what appeared to be the main room. Immediately, an Argonian woman came up to her and smiled.
"Welcome, dear sister, welcome! It's always a pleasure to welcome another Dark Sister into the family. Surely the Night Mother smiles upon her trusted daughters! I'm Ocheeva, mistress of the Cheydinhal Sanctuary. Lucien has told me all about you. I welcome you to the Dark Brotherhood! You stand now in our Sanctuary. May it serve as your new home, a place of comfort and security, whenever the need arises."
Felicienne wouldn't admit it, but it made her a mite uneasy when she found out Mr. Lachance—or rather, Lucien—had told Ocheeva 'all about her', just how long had that man been following her?
Ocheeva went on, oblivious to the younger girl's musings, "When you're ready for work, speak to Vicente Valtieri. He handles all assignments for new family members. But before you go, please accept this gift from your new family. A unique set of armour, lighter than normal leather, and black as the Void."
Felicienne accepted the armour and shroud, admiring the work that had obviously gone into the garments, she had to admit, she was a little excited to try it on and see how it fit. Ocheeva continued, smiling softly at their newest sister, "Now, I've kept you long enough, Vicente is waiting. You'll find him in his quarters. Go now, my child, and may Sithis go with you."
Felicienne looked up at Ocheeva and asked, "May I ask you something? Or rather, somethings? I still feel as if I am mostly in the dark of most of what's happening…"
"Of course you may, child. Feel free to ask whatever you are comfortable with."
The young Breton smiled gratefully at the Sanctuary mistress, "I was wondering, what do you know of Lucien Lachance?"
The Argonian woman looked slightly surprised, but not unprepared for the question, "Lucien isn't here very often, his duties for the Black Hand keep him very busy, so I oversee this Sanctuary and report to him."
Felicienne seemed to take this into account and nodded, and Ocheeva went on to say, "Feel free to talk to your other family members, I'm sure everyone will make you feel welcome."
"Thank you, Ms. Ocheeva," Felicienne said, brushing some fly-away's that had fallen into her line of sight.
"Just call me Ocheeva, dear. I'm not that old," the Argonian said, laughing.
"Alright," the younger said, embarrassed.
Felicienne spotted a blonde woman who appeared to be roughly her age, probably a bit older, oh, and she looked like a Breton! It'd be nice to talk to someone from her home province.
"Hello, miss," the black haired girl murmured.
"Oh, welcome, dearest sister! My name's Antoinetta Marie, and if you need anything don't hesitate to ask!" the blonde said, cheerfully.
"What do you know about Lucien?" Felicienne inquired. She noticed as she asked the question, Antoinetta's eyes took on a bit of a far away look, but at the same time, appeared more guarded.
"I will always think of Lucien Lachance as my savior. When he found me, I was living in a gutter, an inch away from death. I owe him everything," the woman replied, ardently.
Felicienne blinked, her response was a bit more fervent than she expected. However, she felt like Antoinetta was trying to tell her something. She just didn't know what. But the way the blonde stared at her was unnerving.
"Oh," she murmured. She bit her lip, trying to think of something else to say. "Is there anything else I should know?"
At this, Antoinetta smiled, then leaned in closer to her and winked, "Don't tell anyone else, but someday, I'm going to have Ocheeva's position. Lucien Lachance knows real talent when he sees it."
Felicienne smiled, "I'm sure he does. I guess I should head to Mr. Valtieri, now. I hope to speak with you again, Antoinetta."
The blonde beamed, "Likewise, be seeing you."
The darker of the two made her way down the long corridor to, what she was assuming, was Vicente's quarters. While looking around, she caught the eye of a Khajiit who just sneered at her. She arched an eyebrow and went on her way. She'd admit it, she was nervous. She had no idea what to expect, so far, it seemed as if everyone was nice enough. As she made her way farther down the Sanctuary, she saw the last room at the end of the hallway.
'That must be Mr. Valtieri's quarters,' she thought with relief. She could get this over with now.
She knocked tentatively on the heavy door in front of her, hoping for a quick response.
"Enter," a soft voice replied.
She stepped through the threshold, and noticed with quite a start, that the man inside was a vampire.
"H-hello," Felicienne greeted. The man, (who she assumed was Vicente), got up from his table and shook her hand once.
"Warmest greetings to you, I trust you've spoken with Ocheeva, already? I am Vicente Valtieri, I'll be providing your contracts until you are a little more…established here."
She could do nothing but nod her head as she listened to him speak. Almost as if reading her mind, he entreated, "Please, do not let my appearance…unnerve you. The needs and Tenets of the Dark Brotherhood come before my needs as a vampire. Now, if you're ready to get to work, I can provide you with your first contract."
Again, she only nodded, still trying to get her vocal chords to work properly.
He just smiled kindly and continued, "I'm not sure how you feel about pirates, but you'll have to kill one. A captain, on his ship, surrounded by his crew. Interested?"
She cleared her throat, "Yes, I'll accept this contract."
"Excellent, here is what you have to do…"
A/N:
An additional note, for those who are interested in etymology, Felicienne Sauveterre's name means: fortunate/successful safe haven. I also consulted www. uesp. net /wiki/Oblivion:Oblivion for further information (i.e.: maps, which race comes from where etc.) As well as the information that while Lucien Lachance has a Breton name, he is, in fact, an Imperial (and I'd been so sure throughout the game he'd been a Breton).