My Speaker
Life is but an ethereal existence to Lucien's Silencer and she only has one single objective in her life. To find him again so that she could live or die at his hands.
Disclaimer: I do not own Oblivion and its characters.
A.N. I've finally managed to play Skyrim again since I learned Lucien appeared in the game. The game really does test my patience at times, but Lucien is a powerful motivating factor and I finally have him as my companion. This little story is written to celebrate that achievement. XD I rarely write something from the first person viewpoint, but it seems to work with this story.
It was his call I responded to long ago, so very long ago. It is his call I am hearing now. I can feel him getting closer all the time as I serve Astrid as my mistress.
He is my dark destiny and I do not care for any other.
I know that much and that the hollow feeling inside me will not go away till I find him again, a feeling that I was born with. I would not know fulfilment till we are together once again.
I am bound to him.
There are bits of images from another life, which I try to piece together. They are like smudged paintings and not at all like my feelings attached to them. My feelings to each image are so vivid, so alive, though they are not always pleasant. I have not felt such emotions towards anything in this life.
There are his images, regretfully so rare and always shrouded in darkness. I can barely make out the outlines of his face, and yet I know it was and still is the dearest face to me. Other times, I see a youth, wrapped in dark armour, making a swift kill, and my heart swells with pride and hope. I feel his smile at the deathcrafts and know the youth pleased him.
Was I the youth? Was I a man in another life? If so, which race? I could have been an Imperial or perhaps a Breton. These details, however, intrigue me only mildly. What I was then is of no consequence. What I did and how it affected him is all that truly matters.
What have I done to him?
There is one image that has haunted me and still does, an image painted entirely in red. Four figures lie dead on the crimson floor. Glowing red smoke rises from their twisted and swollen remains. The youth is there too, his entire body a smouldering fire, flames dancing and licking his kneeling form. His gaze is fixed upon a body hanging upside down from the ceiling. I hear the youth's harrowing voice and I feel my soul being torn into a thousand pieces.
I'm sorry. I have failed you.
I linger in life because I am the ghost of my past. I will live once again when he is returned to me. Or perhaps I will die at his hands, if that is what he desires.
That is why I follow the path of the Dark Brotherhood, though I feel no loyalty either to the family or to the Night Mother. It is a path that he wants me to follow and it is a path that will lead me to him. I have always known this without knowing how.
Astrid is smiling at me as I approach her, though her eyes are cold. As usual, she seems to know that my target is dead before my arrival at the Sanctuary.
The Dark Brotherhood knows a great many things.
A voice from the past speaks to me. I recognise that voice that bound me to him. It has the charisma and charm that Astrid could never dream of.
He is here.
My heart skips a beat and I struggle to pay attention to Astrid's words. Then her words suddenly become louder and clearer as she speaks of my reward, a spell to summon a legend of the Dark Brotherhood. Once the spell is learned, the rest of her words are lost in the flood of memories, his words, his images.
His name is Lucien Lachance. He served Sithis as a Speaker of the Dark Brotherhood. I was his Silencer and the cause of his demise.
"Your gold?"
I blink my eyes, trying to comprehend what she means. She has an odd expression on her face, that looks like half pity and half irritation, and I realise I have been crying. Her face hardens and the pity is gone.
"Have you been paying attention to me? Take your bonus with you and talk to Gabriella about your next contract. Don't forget that I'm in charge of your life in the Sanctuary."
"Of course."
I pick up the bag of gold and turn away from her, ignoring the contempt in her tone. It doesn't bother me. All I am interested in at the moment is a quiet space where I can be left alone. I may or may not return to this Sanctuary. It will all depend on his wishes. But I will speak to Gabriella just so that I can leave this place in peace.
"To think that the Night Mother has spoken to her."
Astrid says it quietly but not quiet enough to prevent me from hearing it. I cannot help but wonder whether my destiny is to play the harbinger of doom for those who embrace me into the assassin family. But Astrid is not Lucien, and how she meets her end does not trouble my conscience.
I hesitate for a moment in front of the wooden door of Redoran's Retreat, which I made home after clearing out the previous inhabitants. This is a place where I will call him to me. Perhaps even a place where I will meet my death. I'm not afraid of his anger. I fully deserve it. Yet, I hope he will approve of my residence. For a cave chiselled out of a rock, it is surprisingly roomy but its low ceiling is rather a let-down. I think though its undisturbed silence will please him. With that thought, I step into the dimly lit place.
I have worked out how our meeting should begin, but as his spectre materialises in my dreary, clammy bed chamber, all I can do is to look at his transparent face. I feel paralysed by the intensity of swirling emotions. I am elated by our reunion and yet it does not change the fact that I have let him down. The sense of failure weighs me down even as my heart soars in joy at beholding his dear face.
"We at last meet again, Silencer, though you look somewhat different."
I finally remember my duty and kneel in front of him, raising my ebony blade with both hands as an offering.
"I offer you my life, Speaker, and will offer it time and again till I finally earn your forgiveness."
He takes the sword from me, appraises it and returns it to me.
"A beautiful weapon, one that can cut through sinew as if it were mere parchment. Such a weapon is fit for serving our Dread Father. Using it against his wishes will give me no satisfaction."
He caresses my right cheek as a gesture of reassurance. His touch is like a gentle breeze. I can only feel the effect of it and not his touch itself. That realisation makes me weep.
"I have failed you, Speaker."
"You have not failed me. It was my destiny to leave an everlasting fame. Ask yourself, who among the Brotherhood remembers Arquen, Banus, and Bellisarius?"
I remain unconvinced by his words, comforting as they may be. He senses my blasphemous doubt and speaks again without waiting for my answer.
"Besides, you have dealt with my murderers better than I could have done."
I look up to meet his gaze, which has not lost its penetrating power, and manage to smile.
"I casted Immolating Blast on them. I could not have done anything else to destroy all four high-ranking assassins with a different set of skills. It was a disappointingly quick death that I inflicted upon them."
He laughs, his laughter a ripple in the Void.
"Ah, but it was what you did with their bodies afterwards that was so very satisfying. I could not have imagined such refined cruelty myself. You gave their bodies to necromancers to ensure that their souls could not return to the Void."
His words lift my spirits up this time. It is not the Dread Father that I pleased but my Speaker.
"Your act of vengeance, however, meant that the Brotherhood was without a Listener for the last two hundred years. It is but a shadow of its former self."
I should feel bad for what I have done to the Brotherhood, knowing his commitment and loyalty to the guild. But even with all my love for and devotion to him, I cannot bring myself to care. Not after what they have done to him.
"We will remedy that. You will rebuild the Brotherhood to its former glory."
I cannot easily refuse Lucien. I have sworn my loyalty to him for time immemorial. However, there is one thing that he will not ask for himself, one thing that is his due and yet the Night Mother has robbed of him. This time, I will make sure that he will have the honour he deserves. After all, I have not sworn obedience.
"If that is your wish, Speaker. However, I must have you on the ruling council."
He is silent for a while but when he speaks again, there is a tinge of incredulity in his voice.
"You wish me to live again? Isn't that enough for you that I have already died once? An experience I do not wish to repeat. There is no pain in the Void."
"What of desires, Speaker?"
"Ah!" He smiles his mocking smile. "There are desires, of course. How else do you think you were born again?"
Have you ever desired me? I wish to ask. But the words will not pass my lips. I cannot ask him that question. Even now.
"Do you not then wish to live what you might have lived? Do you not wish to lead the Brotherhood as the head of the ruling council?"
Please. I beg silently. Speak to your loyal child, Unholy Lady. I'm not your puppet. I'm his and only his. If you want me to do your work, speak to me through him.
"The Night Mother already made you her Listener. Do you not trust her wisdom?"
I do not wish to earn his disapproval, but how can I trust her wisdom when she did nothing to prevent him from dying a traitor's death? I stand my ground.
"A temporary decision. One that can be easily reversed once the ruling council is properly established."
He laughs again, but it is not his laughter. It is old and ancient and when he parts his lips, it is the voice of the Night Mother that speaks to me.
"Insolent child. Never grateful to your fate as the chosen one. My son has earned his immortal status and it will not be taken away from him."
His eyes turn ebony black, black as night, black as the Void. All I want is to have his brown eyes back. All I want is to see him as he was when I last saw him alive. Is that really that much to ask?
"However… your idea of having my favoured son as my Listener does amuse me and you obviously need someone who can keep an eye on your unruly temperament. Since you have developed obsession over my beloved son, I will grant your wishes. He will have his mortal body back while you live in yours. He will return to you as you remember him in your previous life."
Before I have a chance to thank her, I find myself in complete silence, as if I have been thrown into the realm of the dead. I see, hear and smell nothing. Even my heart seems to have stopped beating. Then, the explosion of lights suddenly appears as a predator strikes upon an unsuspecting prey. A pure white, so bright and powerful that it is just as blinding as the darkness that came before. I close my eyes instinctively and wait because that's all I can do.
"Rise, Child of Darkness. There is much work to be done."
When I open my eyes, I see his gloved hand stretched out to me. I take his hand and place it on my cheek. The warmth and the solid feel of his hand assure me that the Night Mother was true to her word. We met again as two ghosts and now there are two hearts beating as one.
There is a sense of freedom in the air and I can taste it. I have finally righted my wrongs.
I live again.