Before you begin I would like to admit one thing. The story ahead was both inspired by other fan fictions I have read recently and my love of Lucien Lachance. He always seemed a bit deeper than he let on in Oblivion and I was deeply upset when he was killed during the Dark Brotherhood quest line. When he reappeared as the spectral assassin I was more than overjoyed at seeing him. So, in my typical fashion, I have placed him with one of the many Bosmer assassin/thieves I have played and this time decided to add a little bit of romance to the dashing assassin. This is completely off storyline so please forgive that. I did try to stick to things I believe he would do and my own thoughts of my Bosmer.
"I grow restless Listener." the deep voice spoke the words softly right into the ear of Nassana, Listener of the Dark Brotherhod. The small Bosmer flinched but somehow kept her bow steady on her target, wishing to the Divines that Astrid hadn't handed the once Speaker to her. She dealt with the cold that seemed intricate to his spectral form, and she actually was glad to have someone who was able to keep up with her in the many crypts she frequented. The issue came from how close he would get to her, the touches he would run down her spine at the worst moments. She never really sent him away, even when walking into Dragon's Reach, but the thought had been becoming more and more tempting. She knew that one of the reasons he even showed any deference to her, beyond her being Listener of course, was the fact she followed the Tenets as much as she could. The only times she ever thought to break any was when it was ordered by either the Night Mother herself... or when Astrid had been alive. Lately however his deference had become something more. The nights when she would pass out in one of her many homes she would find her pelts covering her and him sitting beside her on the bed, reading as if that were where he belonged. When she was trying to be careful with her kills he would touch her or, like just now, speak right into her ear. She sighed softly and loosed her arrow, the projectile finding its mark in the heart of the bandit she had been looking for in the cave she stood in. Slowly she stood upright and listened, waiting to see if there was any others who might have escaped her killing spree. When not a sound was heard she turned to the specter and growled, letting a bit of her beast add an edge to the sound. "Sithis take you Lucien Lachance! Are you trying to get me killed? If so why not do it yourself and save others the trouble?"
The specter just smiled as he rose from his kneeling position, as if he had waited just for her to yell at him. That infuriating smile made Nassana lose her temper and she balled her fist up, wanting to hit him. Before she could move he moved closer and ran a finger down her cheek, surprising the young Bosmer, yet again, with the fact he could feel so solid. "My dearest Listener, I would never harm you. But your slow methods make me wish to speed you up a bit."
"You are a horrible liar Lachance. I don't know what made you go from helpful teacher to an Imperial spirit bound to touch me when ever possible but this has got to stop. You are going to get me killed one of these days." Nassana retorted, her voice tired as she turned from him and began walking to the body. She carefully pulled her arrow from the corpse before straightening. Just before she could move on, strong arms encircled her body, a cold chin resting on her shoulder. "Dear Listener forgive my actions as of late. I would never choose to endanger you. If I thought a situation was not one you could handle I would gladly jump into the fray before you had a chance to loose an arrow. My blade is yours, as I have told you many a time."
Nassana froze as he murmured into her ear, part of her trying not to shiver as she listened to his baritone voice. She tilted her head away from him, embarrassed by the blush that began creeping up her cheeks. "To the Void with you Lucien. Now. I will summon you later and we will speak about this... whatever this is. I have work to do and do not need you distracting me."
Lucien released her and stepped back, bowing at the waist as he began to fade away. "As you wish my Listener. I shall wait for your call in the Void."
Lucien was always conscience when he was in the Void with the Dread Father and the nIght Mother. In the past this only gave him time to become bored, as he had nothing to do but await a new summoner. During those times he would listen to the lessons that Sithis and the Night Mother would give him to pass the time, learning more than he had thought he could when he had been living. Now, however, his thoughts rested with his current summoner. The Bosmer woman, with long red-brown tresses and blood red eyes. Her curves begged to have a hand cup and stroke them, the siren's called not at all hindered by the Nightingale armor that the elf chose to wear when out. Her husky voice filled much of his day dreams, especially the times the sultry sound would say his name. The once Speaker of the Dark Brotherhood knew he was obsessing, which actually made the situation a bit humorous for him.
He wasn't the only person to obsess however, and that thought made him want to growl into the nothingness around him. Cicero, the mad jester who was Keeper of the Brotherhood, seemed infatuated with the Listener. The Jester would spend hours in the woman's presence when she was at the Sanctuary, brushing her hair for her, getting her meals, and talking in that high pitch voice that grated on what little nerves Lucien had to grate. He did give the madman a bit of credit, his attention to detail was immense. If the Listener would appear injured and try to hide it till she was in her quarters, the jester would follow her and grab the unchild to help him take care of the woman.
Beyond Cicero there were others, beings Lucien would have gladly sent to the Dread Father if not for their parts in the Listener's life. The red headed Nord who had recruited the Listener into the Thieves Guild came to mind when he wanted to rant about the fools that did not understand the woman's worth. The man would constantly show in the Listener's Riften or Whiterun house for no reason, and spend the entire evening attempting to seduce the young Bosmer. Luckily, in Lucien's eyes, Nassana was much too smart for him and typically laughed away the attempts before sending the man on his way.
Lucien wished he could claim that his obsession stemmed from his orders to serve and protect the Listener that the Dread Father had given him. Alas, even he could not lie to himself. Even in his years of life no other woman had proved such an enigma to him. A competent mage, decent alchemist, and member of almost every guild in Skyrim the woman was equal parts mystery and contradiction. She would kill a bandit or a target with no remorse, the fire in her eyes giving way to the cold remorseless killer she could be. Then, after cleaning up, she would go to the home she had in Falkreath and play with the two children she had adopted prior to joining the Brotherhood. She would heal a sick beggar then pickpocket a merchant without second thought. She would assist a mage with a spell then use a spell to incinerate someone who insulted the Companions. Her dual personality, the caring hero and the ruthless killer/thief, had him wondering what other surprises she had in store for him. He had heard whispers in Whiterun, whenever she was asleep and he wandered the town, of her being Dragonborn. The thought of it made him laugh at first, that the small frail looking woman was actually a hero of legend, until he watched her shout a dragon from the skies then once she killed it absorbing its soul into herself. He had once asked why she did not hone her skills with the Greybeards and her answer left him with more questions than answers.
"I am no Nord, Lachance. The Greybeards hold no sway over me. I will do what I can for this country first, then sit at the feet of the masters second." She said,in answer to his question, her hands carefully tanning the skin of a deer she had killed on their way back to Whiterun. Lucien rolled his dark eyes, his mind on her most recent exploits of stealing random items from Markarth. "I do not believe that assisting the Thieves Guild can be considered doing what you can for this country, Listener."
The Bosmer chuckled at his words, the sound as husky and sensual as her words, her hands pausing as she looked up to the spectral vision beside her. "Lucien to many what I am to the Brotherhood is the same as being a thief. Would you agree with that? Or do you feel that at times a death is necessary to help a country?"
Lucien paused and tilted his head, her logic nearly sound. "A death may help a country but what good does stealing an object do?"
"The object may belong to another anyways. Or, to be even simpler, sometimes thieves are necessary to a country's balance. We need thieves to continue on things like smuggling, breaking small laws that have no real meaning. They make us question our safety, keep us on our toes in a different way than an assassin would. Assassins typically get jobs to kill people that are an annoyance, or that are horrible people. They help keep a balance, just as thieves keep a balance. The darkness of night must balance the light of day." She answered, returning to her task. His brow furrowed at her words, the logic sound and coming out as though one of many ages had spoken, not a twenty something woman who barely looked old enough to own her own home. The random wisdom that left the woman always astounded him, making it harder to question why the Night Mother had chosen the young elf to be her Listener. When the young woman had first summoned him, he had been equal parts relieved it had not been Astrid and angered he had been given to a woman child who's deeds made him question why she was an assassin. During times like this, however, her wisdom surprised him. They have had many conversations since she had received the spell that brought him from the Void, each one giving away a hidden deepness Nassana had.
