The Murderer's Tale
Chapter 1: The Death Of Lucas LaCroix
"Change is the constant, the signal of rebirth, the egg of the phoenix."
--Christina Baldwin
Morndas, Sun's Dusk 15, 3E 421
Listener Vicente Valtieri handed the red-haired woman a piece of brown parchment. The light from the torch brackets of the Cheydinhal Sanctuary, the red-haired woman's sanctuary, cast shadows upon the two members of The Black Hand. Red eyes met glittering brown and the red-haired woman whispered haughtily,
"New recruit?"
Vicente nodded, rubbing the fabric of his black gloves. This would be the last time he could wear the robes of the Black Hand, and order around the Speakers as if they were his own children. He replied, pinching the velvet fabric,
"A boy by the name of Lucas LaCroix. Long black hair, brown eyes, around fourteen-years-old. He murdered his father in their Manor here in Cheydinhal. I shouldn't have to tell you this, Speaker Brigette. It's on the paper, as you well know."
"Of course," Lielle Brigette rubbed a dent in the parchment flat with her thumb. "I know this. I meant no offense Listener." Lielle bit her lip before she talked herself into an early grave. Vicente was well known to bury the Speakers he disliked in paperwork and Lielle had enough on her hands to last her a lifetime.
"Well then," Vicente pushed past her, casting a red tapestry on a pillar a bored look. His throat caught as he smelled fresh blood. A Murderer had slit his thumb on a piece of paper and swore. He needed to feed, and soon. Vicente looked over his black-swathed shoulder at Lielle and she saw the hungry look in his eyes and shivered. Dark red eyes became scarlet.
"You know what to do. Head to The Manor, and be quick. I doubt the boy wishes to remain in that Manor for any longer."
Vicente left through the Black Door, his shoulders rigid as Lielle watched him pointedly out of her glittering brown eyes. Sighing, she glanced at the Murderer who was now sucking on his thumb, staunching the wound. She snapped, and the Murderer whipped full around to look at her,
"Get a bandage for that, Greywyn and be quick. We don't need you bleeding all over our only copy of Brothers In Darkness."
Greywyn, a skinny Dunmer mumbled and tripped over the chair as he hurried towards the kitchens, nursing his thumb as if it were a cup of good mead. Staring after the Dunmer, Lielle shook her head and walked towards the rusty ladder of the Sanctuary and began up it with cat-like grace.
Throwing open the equally rusty grate, the rush of cold wind blasted itself into Lielle Brigette's face and she lifted the Black Hand hood over her head, balancing on the ladder so she did not fall. Climbing out of the ivy-covered well, Lielle glanced around before applying a Moonshadow spell to herself. Slowly but surely, she disappeared until the only thing that would have made her appearance known, was the heavy breaths that came from her mouth. She smiled, tugging the hood over her head as her boots crunched on the thin layer of snow.
Moonshadow came simply to Lielle Brigette. She was born under the sign of The Shadow and was able to be invisible at the age of seven. Now, she frowned, sighing as her spelled boots left no trace of footprints but the soft crunch as she walked was enough to make her grimace. Her boots may have been spelled to leave no trace of her comings and goings in the snow or mud, but they still made sound.
She was as unnoticeable as a shadow, but as loud as the Cheydinhal Guard that was coughing as he guarded the East Gate. She floated past him, rolling her eyes as she passed several shops and the boisterous, smoke-filled Newlands Lodge. LaCroix Manor wasn't hard to miss. It was a big, regal and oriental three-story Manor…
With many dirty secrets and rumors surrounding it.
Lielle approached the Manor as it sat, squeezed in between the Mage's Guild and another, much smaller house. The black iron fence creaked ominously as the Speaker approached and Lielle calmly fortified her Moonshadow spell, the silvery blue wave of magicka that erupted from her palm giving small respite from the quick breaths that escaped her nose.
Glancing over her shoulder she watched the coughing guard as he began to pick his nose with a chainmail gloved hand. Lielle snorted, brought a hand up to her lips and quickly looked around, making sure no one had heard her. A beggar that slept outside LaCroix Manor stirred and snored in his sleep and Lielle bit her lip, a thousand what ifs? running through her mind. Two standing out clearly in her mind.
What if the Guard realized she was here? They were trained to know the midnight-colored robes of The Black Hand. What if this Lucas LaCroix tried to kill her? She was certainly at risk, all she had for defense was her Blade Of Woe, and the newest initiate's.
Shaking off these meaningless scruples, Lielle closed her dark brown eyes and sighed. 1… 2… 3… her eyes snapped open. This time, the brown mingled with purple and the Manor's mahogany walls faded slightly, revealing a single, misty purple cloud in the distance as Lielle tipped her head upward to look at the third story.
Erik LaCroix and his three mistresses' were dead, and all that remained was Erik's single son; Lucas LaCroix. The Dark Brotherhood's target for initiation. Lielle pushed past the creaking cast iron fence and looked over her shoulder. The-Guard-Who-Picks-His-Nose was now leaning against the East Gate, snoozing on the job. Lielle opened the sandalwood door quietly and breathed in the scent of iron-like blood. She closed her eyes, and closed the door behind her with a barely noticeable click.
The sight that greeted her half-opened eyes was indeed gruesome, but it was not enough to make Lielle lurch. But her stomach did a somersault in its fleshy cell.
Erik LaCroix hung from the rafters of the beautiful Manor by his ankles, swinging ominously as the winter wind blasted through the door and past Lielle. Two of his mistresses, blond Imperials sat on a tipped over couch, their mangled throats slit. A third woman, a long-haired brunette Breton was strung across the stairs, her decapitated head sitting on the top of the fireplace next to a broken vase. Her ankle peeked out of the stairs.
Lielle bristled as she walked towards the swinging figure of Erik LaCroix. His throat had been slit from ear-to-ear and he stared at her through mint-green, shocked eyes that bore no light that a living man might've had. Lielle ran a finger down his angular jaw. Whispering, almost lovingly,
"Beautiful… such wonderful handiwork…" The corners of Lielle's mouth twitched, as if she were fighting a smile. Curling her long, slender fingers into the roots of Erik LaCroix's greasy hair, Lielle cooed, puckering her lips,
"Yes… quite beautiful… A fitting death for one so wicked…"
Lielle released the roots and poked the area between the dead man's eyes with two fingers and watched as he swung back and forth, the rope protesting as the lump of a man weighed it down. Lielle turned on her heel and faced the stairs, where the decapitated brunette's ankle was still visible in the corner. Her brown eyes glanced at the head on the fireplace and crinkled as she silently laughed.
What do you know? A Murderer has a sense of humor.
Walking past the pale, skimpily clothed body, Lielle's footsteps creaked as she walked up the old stairs. Stopping midway, she closed her eyes once more and cast a Detect Life spell. The purple misty cloud stirred slightly and Lielle sighed. Even a Speaker of The Black Hand, a trained and masterful assassin was not a shadow. She could not escape sound, even if she could blend into darkness.
Quietly, her breath catching in her throat at every little sound, Lielle Brigette continued up the two flights of stairs until she reached the third story. There was now an adjourning hallway for her to walk down, with several bedrooms branching out, and a single door was at the end of the hallway. Detect Life was cast again and Lielle could see clearly, the purple cloud situated behind the lone door.
Lielle stifled a laugh with her hand. Lucas LaCroix had the gall to sleep in his father's bedroom after killing him. Continuing down the hall, Lielle gripped the handle of her Blade Of Woe cautiously as the purple cloud began to stir even more. He had slept soundly, but Lielle's racket had entered his ears and invaded his dreams. Lielle opened the door and shut it behind her, taking in the sleeping body of the teenager before her as he tossed, turned and whimpered in his sleep.
Lucas LaCroix's eyes snapped open and Lielle removed the Moonshadow spell, the crackling of magicka echoing off of the tan walls of the bedroom. Lucas threw off the covers and sat erectly on the bed, a steel dagger, concealed underneath the pillow, was held eye-level as his brown eyes locked with Lielle's. A drop of sweat dribbled down his forehead as he regarded Lielle with a look of fear.
"You sleep soundly for a murderer, Lucas LaCroix." Lielle's brown eyes narrowed as the other set widened in fear. Lielle smirked, her dimpled smile not visible to the poor, frightened boy on the king-sized bed, who took it as a smirk in the shadows. Another drop of sweat dripped between his eyes and Lucas wiped it with a black sleeve.
"W-Who are you?" He asked, the hand which brandished the silver dagger shook, wavering as a testament to his fear and Lielle's smile thinned. Lucas continued on, ranting like a madman,
"I… I didn't mean to kill him, I swear!"
The aged Speaker moved noiselessly towards a wardrobe in the corner, where a tray of Cheap Wine and a bowl of strawberries sat. Picking a strawberry up, Lielle licked it and brought it to her mouth, chewing the thin end. She looked to Lucas, who watched her as if she were Mehrunes Dagon himself and chuckled darkly,
"Oh?" Removing the stopped from the wine, Lielle poured herself a glass of cheap wine. "I believe you very well intended to kill him, Lucas LaCroix."
Lielle strode towards the bed, her robes rippling as she walked; her eyes never left Lucas', until Lucas jumped backwards, landing on the floor with a loud thud!
"Stay. Away. From. Me!" Lucas yelled, emphasizing every word as if Lielle could not understand simple Imperial. Lielle looked at him simply and chuckled, sipping her wine and grimacing at the thick, disgusting taste. Lucas raised the dagger above his head, looking awkward on the ground. Lielle sighed, sipped the wine through pursed lips and spoke,
"Come now? You wouldn't dare harm me, would you? I simply have a proposition to make, nothing more, nothing less."
At this, Lucas lowered the dagger, keeping it to his chest and eyed the aged woman wearily. It was here that Lielle drunk in the appearance of Lucas LaCroix. Jet-black hair, the color of a moonless, cloudless midnight was drawn back in an aristocratic ponytail. His skin was pale and flawless and Lucas LaCroix's almond-shaped eyes were dark brown and glittered in the pale moonlight from the window behind Lielle Brigette.
Lucas LaCroix was also regarding Lielle Brigette. She was tall and slender, with short red hair and brown eyes that stared back at him. Wrinkles and laugh lines marred her face and the two sat in complete silence, as if they were wolves prepared to tear each other apart.
"Silence is what you prefer then?" Lielle asked finally, gripping the clay goblet of cheap wine. "As do I, Dear Brother, as do I. For is not silence the symphony of death, the orchestration…"
Lucas' eyes widened at the last bit.
"Of Sithis himself?"
Lielle looked down her long and pointed nose to stare at Lucas. His brown eyes went from quizzical to fearful, and he brought the steel dagger to his eyes, shoulders rigid and tense. Lielle stifled her laughter, but managed a smirk that made Lucas shiver in his noble, black robes.
"Y-You're from the Dark Brotherhood… you've come… for me now…" Lucas blanched, Lielle chuckled,
"Yes, your father had a certain taste for… revenge I could say? But I have not come for your life, Lucas LaCroix. Your father cannot contact us from beyond the grave."
At those reassuring words, Lucas lowered the dagger once more. But his eyes still glanced warily into Lielle's aged face, and Lielle took a swig from the goblet once more. Grimacing this time at the burning sensation of alcohol as it ran down her throat.
"You still haven't answered my question." Lucien muttered dejectedly, his eyes cast to the mahogany floor. Lielle raised her eyebrows and quipped,
"Haven't I?"
"Who are you and what do you want from me?"
Lielle crossed her arms, glowering at the boy that cowered below her. Had she not been sent to recruit him, to bring him into the ranks of the most notorious assassin's guild in the world, she would've spent not a second more listening to his rebellious tone and slit his throat. Ear-to-ear. But, swallowing her pride, one of the only things Lielle Brigette had left, she replied solemnly,
"My name is Speaker Lielle Brigette, and as you well know, Lucas, I am a Speaker for the Dark Brotherhood. As for what I want from you? Nothing." Lucas inched closer to the mahogany floor as she said this. "But It does not matter what I want, Not. At. All." He inched even closer as her voice became harsh and husky.
"Our Unholy Matron, Our Mother, She-Who-Breathed-Darkness-Into-Us, She Whom We Suckle Malice And Pain From, The Night Mother, It is what She wants that matters, Lucas. And She wants… you. And your allegiance to The Dark Brotherhood."
It was Lucas' turn to stare at Lielle. To Lielle, it was unnerving to have those two dark brown eyes stare her down, observing every harsh line etched in the older woman's face. But since he spoke no questions, and instead kept them in check, as a very good little sibling should, Lielle continued, wrapping her cloak in her hands,
"She watched as you killed, you see. Watched as you killed the man you may have once been proud to call Father. Watched as you took revenge for your birth mother. And. She. Is. Pleased." Lielle emphasized every word as if wanting to drill this information into Lucas' dark-haired head. Lucas observed her, and then stared angrily, darkly in fact, at the floor.
"Your… Your Unholy Matron wants me to join your ranks… your… Family." The last word seemed almost tough for Lucas to say, but he stared into Lielle's eyes, dark brown meeting dark brown and Lielle nodded, her hood dipping slightly over her facial features.
"Do me a favor, Speaker Brigette." Lielle glared at the boy. How dare he ask a favor of her, no matter how trivial it could be! Her, A dangerous Speaker Of The Black Hand! Lielle watched as he picked himself up from the floor, dressed in black, expensive satin. And the Speaker swallowed her pride once more,
"Yes, Lucas LaCroix?"
"Don't. Call. Me. That."
Lielle cocked her head in confusion as the words spilt from Lucas' lips. He stared straight into her eyes with a haunted, piercing stare and stated, calmly, angrily, watching Lielle through haunted, murky eyes,
"It's Lachance now. Lucien Lachance. And he is nothing but a puppet for your Unholy Matron."
Lielle bristled and glowered at Lucien Lachance. Snatching both the piece of parchment from her robes, she thrust them into the tense teenager's arms with such force that it almost knocked him down to the hard wood floors once more. Lucien stared into her eyes, afraid he may have upset her.
"Inside of the Imperial City there are two clans, the Sintav Clan, and the Atius Clan. Now, Cyronin Sintav wishes for the death of one Anya Atius. Kill her, and plant this note," Lielle said, dangerously calmly, she was still angry over what Lucien said. Puppet? Puppet!? "And your initiation as a puppet, will be complete!"
With an angry glower, Lielle Brigette, Speaker For The Black Hand, disappeared before Lucien Lachance's very eyes.
And thus, began a series of events that would shape the future Speaker's life and death.
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My dear Cyronin,
As I write this, my husband, Helvo, is coming to murder me. I cannot say much, only that I love you and I very much wish that you could join me in the afterlife. Helvo comes for my head, and I can only express that I am truly sorry our affair must end this way.
Yours forever,
Anya Atius
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Well, I have decided to write a backstory for Lucien Lachance. I have everything planned out for this story, and I assure you, there will be lots and lots of bloodshed, laughs, romance and mystery along the way. Now, I hope you guys can graciously await the second chapter, which will chronicle the initiation of Lucien Lachance and the death of one Anya Atius.
REFERENCES
The Idea for Lucas LaCroix becoming Lucien Lachance came from watching Sweeney Todd, in which a man by the name of Benjamin Barker is sent to prison for fifteen years hellbent on revenge against the man who falsely imprisoned him there, Judge Turpin. So he comes back as Sweeney Todd, a mass murderer who is later known as the Demon Barber Of Fleet Street. Thus, Lucas LaCroix becomes Lucien Lachance.
The idea of using the feuding Atius and Sintav clans came from the fact that they aren't involved in any quests. Cyronin Sintav and Helvo Atius are real NPCS but Anya Atius is not, as she must be killed and this takes place quite a few years before the events of Oblivion.
As always, special thanks to anyone who reviews my stories, and to Oblivion Wiki, for being the best Oblivion Encyclopedia I could ask for.