'Sweet mother, sweet mother…'
"Speak, assassin. You said you had information that might be of importance to me." The Imperial looked about ready to flee, hand resting on the hilt of his sword and eyes darting from the wooden door to the black clad figure atop the bookcase. His mud-coloured eyes observed the armour the figure wore with an element of concern. He'd recognise that armour anywhere.
"Commander Maro," the figure spoke, "why should I give up the identity of anyone in my family to a spineless Imperial such as yourself? What I should do is slit your throat and be on my way."
Maro's grip on his sword tightened. "Astrid. You were the one who summoned me here to this…shack in the middle of Morthal. It's painstakingly clear that you want to tell me something."
It was true. She had indeed summoned the Commander out to the same shack she'd taken the sleeping Dragonborn to – the same shack she did all her shady business in. Abandoned far out in the swamps of Morthal there was little chance of an innocent stumbling across the murders that often took place within the old wooden walls.
Dried blood still stained the sinews in the wood, old furniture lay discarded and broken across the floor and cobwebs hung from the ceiling. It needed a decent clean, but time was one thing Astrid feared she no longer had.
"If I was to tell you the identity of one person within my family – within the Brotherhood – there is something I want guaranteed in return," she replied hesitantly. The Commander gestured for her to continue, his posture slackening into a more relaxed stance. "I want political immunity for the Dark Brotherhood."
Maro snorted, "that's a big ask for a brotherhood of assassins. Political immunity would keep you out of the civil war and make you immune to criminal prosecution. The Emperor would not be pleased to hear of assassins that can dodge the punishment for defying laws."
"It's just as big of a deal to ask me to betray the identity of a member of my family!" Astrid snapped, "not that I would expect the leader of the Penitus Oculatus to understand the meaning of family."
"Have you forgotten who murdered my son!?" Maro roared and pulled his sword from its sheath, pointing it straight at Astrid's throat.
Twin daggers were pulled from pockets in the armour cladding her thighs, gripped firmly in her scarred hands. "Do not threaten me, Commander! My family would avenge my death. Who is left to avenge yours?" She smirked as the enraged look on his face fell to one of shocked realisation as her barbed words hit home. "Now, do we have a deal? Political immunity for the Brotherhood in return for the identity of a Brotherhood assassin?"
"We have a deal," he growled and extended a calloused hand.
Astrid slid easily down the bookshelf to the ground, slipping her hand into Maro's grip, shaking it firmly. "Whose identity do you want?"
A cruel grin spread across the older man's face. "Give me the identity of your Listener."
'send your child unto me…'
The Listener drew a hand gently across Shadowmere's flank, expelling a small gasp of reverence. Astrid smirked and reclined against the door of the Brotherhood. "Take him with you to complete your contract against the Emperor. He'll get you there within days."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course, Niya," she offered the Khajiit a reassuring smile. "He's yours now. No one else in the Brotherhood rides save for me and I don't have the time."
Niya twitched her tail, glancing at Astrid over her shoulder, "you say that a lot you know?"
"That I don't have the time? Running an underground group of assassins takes up a lot of time. I don't regret it though. The Brotherhood is all I have." Saying those words only made the bitter sting of betrayal hurt all the more.
She didn't hate the Dragonborn; Listener of the Dark Brotherhood. In fact she rather liked the warm-hearted Khajiit. Over the many long years of her life she'd heard countless rumours of Khajiits being savage creatures with a taste for Skooma and thievery. Niya had changed her view on the cat-folk of Elsweyr.
"Must be nice to have your husband work the same trade as you," the cat replied, hoisting herself easily into Shadowmere's saddle. The horse raised its head and met Astrid's careful gaze. She glanced away, fearful that the horse knew of her betrayal. It was done for the good of the Brotherhood.
"What have you told Brynjolf about your disappearances recently?"
Niya chuckled as she fiddled with the Nightingale bow slung across her back. She tugged the front of the cowl up over her mouth, hiding her face so that only her intelligent green eyes shone in the shadows of Falkreath Hold's towering trees. "Dragonborn business. Dragons to kill, crypts to raid, the usual stuff he doesn't like to get involved in."
Clawed hands tugged on the reins, steering the powerful steed towards the incline leading to the main road through Falkreath. "He doesn't worry that you'll get killed?" Astrid queried. She felt guilty that she was to be the reason for a family's heartache. The Brotherhood will benefit from it.
"Of course he does. But he knows that I can handle myself. Besides, I'm the Dragonborn, remember?" Niya shouted over her shoulder before urging Shadowmere into a gallop.
Astrid could not dispel the horrible feeling developing in her heart. The Brotherhood really was the best place for her; the dark cavern matched her heart. "Yes, you're the Dragonborn and you were the best thing to happen to my family."
"What do you mean by were? She'll be fine. If Niya can take down Alduin in Sovngarde then she can take down the Emperor on his boat." Warm arms wrapped around her shoulders and the smell of wet dog filled her nose.
She smiled and turned into her husband's warm embrace. "You went for a hunt didn't you, Arnbjorn?"
"How could you tell?" the scruffy Nord smiled.
"You smell like a wet dog."
He laughed loudly and pushed his wife towards the door carved into the cliff-face. "You didn't answer my first question. Why did you say Niya was the best thing to happen to our family?"
Astrid swallowed uneasily, pushing the door open without answering. "Force of habit."
"She won't die, Astrid," Arnbjorn reassured. "You can stop worrying about it. Niya will be home before you know it, pestering us all for new contracts like she always does. You'll see." He left her to brood in silence, shouting at Nazir to join him for a drink as he wandered down into the spacious cavern.
Her guilt grew. The rest of the Brotherhood adored Niya. How could she have made such a devastating decision on her own!? She'd betrayed the trust of not only Niya but the entire Brotherhood! She gripped her head between her hands and held it, begging Sithis to take the guilt away.
But he did not.
'for the sins of the unworthy…'
There was something dreadfully wrong; Astrid could feel it in the air as she paced around the mapping table. Everything felt electrically charged, like the forest before a storm hit. It buzzed in the air like an annoying bug and consumed all of Astrid's concentration. Still she paced in the hope that her pacing would take her mind off of Niya and the dreadful feeling settling over her.
"Fresh air," she mumbled to herself. "Fresh air will sort me out."
The others were all asleep, snoring peacefully in their beds and taking part in dreams that were no doubt twice as nice as the internal struggle Astrid was facing at the current moment. Pushing open the heavy stone door she stepped out into the frigid Skyrim night, breathing in the crisp winter air.
She was thankful it rarely snowed in Falkreath. Sure they still froze throughout the majority of the year but Morning Star through till Mid Year was usually warmer than it was in Windhelm or Dawnstar.
A gentle wind whistled gently through the thick Falkreath forest. It was peaceful outside in the night-time air, more open and relaxing than the stuffy Brotherhood cavern.
Her feeling of dread increased with a sudden frantic skipping of her heart. Eyes that had slid closed to enjoy the peace snapped open. She was immediately brought to the attention that something or someone was watching her.
The near silent sound of a bow string being let go reached her ears and she instinctively dove to the left just in time to miss the arrow flying straight for her heart. It grazed past her arm instead, cutting through her armour and drawing blood.
Snarling, she reached for the daggers strapped to her thighs prepared to rip the life from whatever idiot had shot at her. "I wouldn't do that if I were you, Astrid."
One dagger slipped from her hand, falling to the ground with a thud. Maro, he's here, why is Maro here!? "And why wouldn't I want to reach for my daggers after being shot at?" she fired back, standing to face Commander Maro.
Her heart shuddered to a stop.
Maro stood before her, hand resting on the hilt of his sword, surrounded by countless members of his Penitus Oculatus. A cold smirk adorned his weathered face. "Because if you so much as raise one of those daggers in my direction my archers will cut you down where you stand," he grinned.
"Why are you here?" Astrid spat. "Don't you have a Dragonborn to kill!?"
"The Dragonborn will have to return here at some point, when she does my men will be waiting and so will the corpses of every Dark Brotherhood assassin!"
Astrid narrowed her eyes, "our deal was complete political immunity if I gave you the identity of our Listener. I did that, you have her identity, you can't harm us."
"Oh, Astrid," he sighed dramatically. "I lied. Your little organisation doesn't deserve political immunity." The Imperial indicated for his men to begin their attack, "don't leave any alive. I've got a Dragonborn to speak with."
Another arrow clattered into the cliff-face behind her and her instincts kicked in. She had to warn the others. She had to wake her family. She had to protect them.
The skull door fell open at her touch, slamming shut behind her in an attempt to keep the intruders out but Astrid knew it would not be long before the Oculatus soldiers broke in. As she ran down the stairs into the cavern one thought kept racing through her mind. This is my fault.
"Nazir, Babette, Arnbjorn, Festus, Gabrielle, Veezara get up we're under attack!" Her hoarse cry echoed throughout the cavern, reaching her brothers and sisters through the haze of their dreams. They awoke to hear the sound of stone grating against stone as the Oculatus soldiers forcefully began pushing the skull door open and threw themselves out of bed to scramble after their armour and weapons.
"Who are they!?" Veezara shouted as he dashed past Astrid in search of a sword.
"Penitus Oculatus!" she told the Argonian.
Babette came rushing past Astrid but she stuck out a hand and caught the vampire. "I need you to do something for me."
"What is it?" the girl answered smoothly.
"Get out of here."
Babette shook her head, "I can't do that, Astrid."
"I'm not asking you to. I'm commanding you to. At least one of us needs to come out of this battle alive to continue the Brotherhood's legacy. You can do that," Astrid pleaded but still the vampire shook her head.
"If it helps," Babette reasoned, "I'll try to stay out of the fighting."
Their conversation was cut short when the skull door gave an almighty scraping sound before giving way, allowing the sounds of the Oculatus soldiers to stream into the cavern. But the Brotherhood was ready for them.
Astrid glanced at Arnbjorn and he smiled back at her before his body curved inwards, bones snapping and popping painfully. When the Oculatus soldiers rounded the tunnel and came into view they found themselves face to face with an enraged werewolf eager to tear them apart.
The Brotherhood fought with all they had but they were assassins, not soldiers. They were skilled in killing one person at a time not entire battalions.
Veezara fell first, a greatsword cleaving his head from his shoulders. Gabrielle hesitated at the sight of her fallen brother and didn't see the axe until it was buried in her back. Festus fought on until the archers put him down, setting fire to a soldier before taking his final breath. His fire soon set the cavern ablaze.
They were losing but Astrid had yet to give up.
A familiar battle cry sounded through the clanging of metal and roaring of the flames. Niya had returned to find her home in flames. She ripped her daggers through the neck of a soldier before turning to see the Dragonborn pounce on another.
Her heart soared. They stood a chance with their Listener fighting with them.
A howl of pain sent her heart crashing back down. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Arnbjorn in his wolf form go down with an arrow jutting from his stomach. A soldier raised a cruel axe up high in the air and brought it down on his neck, severing the werewolf's head from his body.
"No!"
Hands found her shoulders and shoved her back into the roaring flames.
The armour she'd worn for years grew unbearably hot as the skin not covered by it began to blister and bleed. She screamed, stumbling from the fire she'd been pushed into as her entire body burned like one big torch. In her mind the image of her husband's head rolling from his body replayed over and over, the blood spilling from his neck growing redder and redder.
She'd done this. The death of her husband, the deaths of her brothers and sisters, it'd all been her fault. Vaguely she thought she heard Niya calling her name. How would she be able to live with the guilt if she was to survive? She wouldn't be able to.
"I-I will be the final contract," she gritted her teeth. "My death will end this Brotherhood so that a new one can be built from the ashes." Pulling her Blade of Woe from its sheath near her hip, she placed it on the ground beside her and lay down. "Sweet mother, sweet mother, send your child unto me, for the sins of the unworthy must be baptized in blood and fear."
"Astrid!? No! What are you doing!? Don't say that! Once a contract is begun it must be completed, you of all people should know that!" Niya collapsed on the bloody floor beside Astrid's burnt body.
"Please, complete my final contract. What I did was wrong and I must pay the price. This Brotherhood is no more; you must create a new one with you as the Speaker. The Night Mother has heard my contract and it must be completed." She offered a small smile, nudging her blade towards Niya's shaking hands. "Give me my peace."
She felt no pain when the blade pierced her heart.
'must be baptized in blood and fear.'