A/N: Again, much thanks to my Beta-Reader. Here's chapter dos, and finally things are heating up.
Chapter two:
Betrayal
The Anvil skies never seemed to be clear to Bellamont. He looked up from the ship's dock, procrastinating as usual and lost himself in deep thought. It had been three years since they fled Bravil, three years since they last saw their father. Now, Bellamont was age 14, old enough to work. He looked much older, however. His hair grew longer, something his father wouldn't permit, and tied it into a thick pony-tail. Mikal was 11, the same age Bellamont was when they fled. Mikal was much more mature, but still more childish than Bellamont ever was at that age. Being too young to work still, Mother had Mikal stay in the small Anvil school while Mathieu continued to try and scrape up money for the family of three.
Not to say anything had gotten better, Yes, they left behind a life of screaming, fighting and abuse. Yet they picked up a life where their poor mother had become depressed and paranoid that Father would come back. Aunt Mayle would send charity money to the family every now and then, which Mother shamefully accepted. Bellamont was already growing tired of the shameful depressed life mother had. He hoped she would be happy after leaving Father. One day, Bellamont hoped, Mother wouldn't have to worry about a thing, as long as the boy worked hard and saved up enough gold.
"Bellamont, get to work!" Barkly the Tall yelled at Mathieu. He sighed. The worse part of Anvil was all the Nords that thought everyone was as strong as them, forgetting that short Bretons such as Bellamont wasn't able to do as much heavy-lifting. Bellamont was pretty damn strong for his young age, but eventually even he gets tired of carrying cargo for ten hours by hand. And with his poor mother on his mind, it wasn't making it any easier.
"Coming..." Bellamont walked over to the 75 pound crate and grunted as he attempted to lift it. His knees and elbows ached so bad, but complaining about it to a Nord would result in a half hour marathon of push-ups.
The day's routine carried on after work. Bellamont picked Mikal up from the small shack of a school, and on the way home, both would pick up food for Mother to cook. She would cook, then they would sleep. The next day the cycle continued. Nothing different or exciting ever happened now a-days. It was no doubt a bore to Mathieu, but he didn't dare think of the life they would have if they stayed with Father those three years ago.
Sometimes he considered stealing, and if he ever chose to, it seemed so easy- those rare nobles wore their purses on their belts, as if to show off their wealth to the rest of the town, so easily snatched when you're in a crowded tavern or street... But the thought if his mother's face if she ever found out kept him from reaching out and taking what wasn't his, driving him back to work better than a whip could.
~~{*}~~
Bellamont jerked up from his sleep. Heavy breathing, hurting chest...it was the same feeling he had before. That feeling right before Mother woke them up to flee Bravil. But...why was he having the same feeling now? Bellamont hurried out of bed, and put on his shirt to check on Mother.
"Brother?" Young Mikal, half asleep, called out form his bed.
"Shh, go back to bed," Bellamont whispered," I didn't mean to wake-"
He was interrupted by a far away sound. It was faint, but both boys clearly heard it. Mikal jumped from his bed and followed his brother, who entered the hallway as silently as he could. Both boys were well curious, but more importantly, worried. Mathieu, stalling for a moment by his mother's door, held his knuckles up and gave three small taps against the wooden door.
"Mother?" He quietly called out. There was no answer that followed. With Mikal close by, Mathieu slowly turned the knob, and creaked open the old wooden door. He only saw darkness in the room, with no Mother to be seen. This wasn't good, and Bellamont wasn't sure what the wise thing to do now was. He crept slowly to his mothers bed, just to make sure she wasn't in it before Mathieu left.
"Brother?" Mikal whispered.
"Hush."
His hands caressed the piled covers. There was no Mother in them, Bellamont sighed. His heavy breathing grew loud and uneven, even Mikal could hear it now. Surely, if Mother was planning to leave this late at night, she would have at least left a note or said something before she left, wouldn't she? It wasn't like Mother to just-
The door slammed shut behind them, startling them both nearly off their feet. It was Mother, trying her hardest to push the door close with all her strength.
"Get under the bed, both of you!"
"Moth-"
"Now!"
In a rush, Bellamont grabbed his younger brother and dragged him under the bed with him, just as Mother had ordered. She was still holding the door close, afraid for her life to let it go. Mother was a strong and courageous woman, and it took a lot for her to act this scared and desperate. To make such a woman act this way...Bellamont wanted to grab her and run.
"M...mother?" Bellamont whispered aloud. She seemed to ignore him at first, checking the door before she let it go. As quietly as she could, so no one else would hear, Mother whispered.
"Children, make me a promise."
Mathieu and Mikal looked at each other, tears filling their eyes. "Y-yes, Mother?"
"Promise me," He face broke out into a sob," Promise me that if something happens, you stay under that bed, Ok? Stay under that bed and don't come out until until your sure he's gone."
Bellamont, so afraid and confused, tried his best to look at his mother throughout the darkness. "Who?"
"Promise me."
Mikal nudged Mathieu on the shoulder. Both nodded, too afraid to speak any longer. Both children could sense the fear in their mother's voice, and it turret them just to see their mother like this. "Why Mother?" Bellamont whispered, so soft and faintly, only Mikal, who shivered and cried silently, could hear.
Mother let go of the door, cautiously staring at it as she took small step backwards. This couldn't be happening, she kept telling herself. She knew he was angry, but to go this far? How could he do this to her? Margaret shook like a rattle, cold, frightened, unaware...
The door slammed open, more violently than before. Mother screamed loud into the air, grabbed ahold of anything she could for protection. A man, Bellamont couldn't see who, stepped inside the dark room where he awaited for Bellamont's poor mother. He glided, almost, toward the woman, and gave a big mocking grin.
"Nonono-"Motor repeatedly cried to her evader. Bellamont's young mind raced so fast, he couldn't wrap the situation around it. Oh Talos, who was this man in black, and why had he felt the need to cause so much horror? Why was he scaring Mother like this? Then, Bellamont's eyes widened at the sharp silver blade the dark man held in his gloved hand. Mathieu nearly cried out for her to run, if not for Mikal holding him back. Mother wept, wept like a child. "Please, no! Have Mercy, please!"
The man, as cruel as he could, smiled darkly at her. "Sithis wants blood, my lady. And he demands yours." Mikal cried along with his brother, having a hard time holding him back. The man, the sick man, laid his cold hand on her neck as she struggled. He lifted he knife to her neck-
No, this isn't real!
No, NO DONT!
The blade slit across her neck in a single slice, blood flowed freely on the ground as she tried to scream for her life, but nothing could come out but more dark blood. Bellamont stopped struggling. Oh god, he was so scared now, he couldn't move. His world crashed down on him, and he didn't even have the ability to scream for his mother. The man, he didn't stop slicing! He...he kept cutting and cutting. God, wasn't it enough?
The room fell silent. No screaming, no cutting, no tears. Only one last sound Bellamont could remember of his mother.
The sound of his Mother's head dropping on the ground. Her dead eyes stared at the boys, as if pleading for them to help.
There was nothing left to help.
Unknowingly, the man left the two children behind. Mathieu and Mikal struggled to finally get out from under the bed, Mathieu screaming and crying out to his mother. He actually tried to pick up he head, of all things, but Mikal dragged Mathieu by the arm out of the room. In one night, Mikal had become the matured one.
"Get off me, Mikal! Mother, Mother!"
"We have to get help, Mathieu!"
"Mother!!"
When the legion arrived, they didn't know what to expect from besides the reports of screaming throughout the house. But what they did see would be written down as one of the most tragic scenes in Anvil's history. Arlis Harold was one of the first officers one the scene, and walked in to see two children in mass hysteria crying together in a hallway full of blood. It wasn't until they opened the bedroom door did they understand why.
"The room was covered in blood," Arlis later recalled to his Dunmer officer, Renayld. "I mean covered. Even in the darkness we could see that. It took us a bit to notice where it came from."
"And where did it come from?"
"A headless body."
Renold raised a brow. "What on earth happened to the head?"
"Marcus, that idiot new recruit, didn't see it by his foot and kicked it across the room," Arlis sighed," The kids saw, and lost it. They blew up a storm in that room. Took us an hour to get them to finally calm down."
"Oh my..." Renold glanced over to the boys, who sat on a wooden bench, unmoving. "They haven't said a word since we got them out here. They act like the souls have seen sucked out of them."
Arlis grunted. "After what they've been through, I'm not a bit surprised. Have your Mother's head chopped off like that and then come talk to me."
"Arlis," Renold looked at his partner," I never knew my mother."
Arlis shrugged. "Well, tough. Do they have anywhere to go?"
"A father, I think, in Bravil. They have a wagon staged outside to take them there. The legion decided not to wait for the father to reply to the letter we sent out, so they're sending the children now."
The Imperial coughed. "A little early for that, isn't it?"
"Doesn't matter what we say."
Bellamont wished he could recall how he felt, sitting with his brother, both covered in their own mother's dried blood. But he couldn't. Nothing was going on inside his head, even as he sat and listened to his brother's cries. He didn't say a word, think a single thought, or even try to remember the horrible events that night. He broke, simply to say. His world shattered, his life ruined. No one should ever have to see their mother die in such a fashion. No one should have to sit and watch their mother's body being dragged out in a white sheet.
Yet, Bellamont did.
A young female officer walked hesitantly over to the mourning children. "A wagon is stationed for you," She spoke softly," You'll be going to your father in Bravil"
For some odd reason, as she said this, young Bellamont broke out into tears. He hadn't seen his father in years, and father had not tried to even reach them once. Did father know mother was...
She wasn't dead though. Mother couldn't be dead. Not the same loving caring mother who would protect them till her last breath. She wasn't dead...
Not her...
~~{*}~~
Alain Bellamont, nobleman of Bravil, and now widower, stood waiting outside the city walls. He looked up at the sky, wondering how much longer it was going to be before those devil children will finally arrive. How long has it been now? Three years since his dear Margaret left him? And it had been those damn kids fault, too. It's their fault he had been waiting. He didn't like waiting.
"Do you need assistance, sir?" A Dunmer stable woman asked him generously. Alain scoffed at her. Not from an Ash-born, I don't, he thought cruelly. There could be not help for him anymore. Alain was angrier than ever. He got the news of Margaret's death three days afterward, and instead of leaving him to mourn, the Legion decided to drop the kids on his doorstep, leaving him only a day to prepare. Alain hated kids, specifically those kids. Bratty, snotty, un-loyal and ungrateful. He didn't want those kids. He only wanted sweet Margaret back.
At last, the wagon pulled up to the city's gate. Bellamont took a deep breath before heading outside. His eyes were burning red from the lack of sleep and constant crying. One minute he was laughing with his mother over a dinner table, next he's mourning her loss, then travel for days in a hot wagon back to the place where it all began. Not to mention meeting their father for the first time in years.
Mikal was the one who finally opened the wagon door, and allowed Mathieu and himself to walk outside. The sunlight was blinding, and a glare went across their sight of their father. Mathieu took a hard look at him for the first time in three years. He was so much different now, and not in a good way. His face had gotten so pale that it turned into a light grey hue, almost silver. His once flourished green eyes, the one Mother fell in love with, had dulled. His hair reverted from pure light brown into a greying thin strands of hair. Even his attitude seemed to die out. Once, Father had a charming and loving smile that would light up any situation. Now, that smile was replaced by an angry frown that depressed even the horrified children.
"Good day, children," He greeted in a very bland and rough voice. Bellamont grunted. The fist thing you say to your disturbed children in "Good day"? It wasn't only an insult to them, Bellamont thought, but an insult to Mother. Yet, both boys said nothing, only staring at the ground with a single bag of luggage in each of their hands. Father cleared his throat, yet it still produced a horrible rough sound. "Your rooms are exactly how you left them. You can unpack there, and get ready for dinner when your done."
"Wh-" Mikal tried to speak up in his squeaky voice," What about Mother?"
Father only turned his neck to face the boy. He returned his simple innocent question with a hard glare that made Mikal feel frozen in his place. The poor boy felt like crying right there. Alain pursed his lips, then replied "Her burial is on Morndas." And left it at that. The children were left to carry their own luggage and unpack in their rooms alone.
"Brother?" Mikal spoke to Mathieu while they put their belongings away. Mathieu didn't respond, but he turned his head toward his brother as if to tell him he heard. Mikal, not knowing if it would be wise to even speak at the moment, muttered," I don't like this place."
Mathieu stopped what he was doing. For a moment, Bellamont tried to fight back a tear, not of sadness, but off bitter rage. "Neither did Mother."
Mathieu hated Bravil. He hated Bravil and all it's ungrateful people. He hated Father, he hated Aunt Mayle, and to be honest, he hated any living creature on the filth of Nirn. No one deserved the life they were given, Bellamont knew, because no one cared enough about it. It had been two days since Bellamont arrived in that hellish place, and two days longer than he wanted to stay. He was growing more impatient with finding out the truth. There was something Mother was running from, something she was afraid of. What was it? He needed to know.
Mathieu, knowing Father was off doing business, stormed into his room and dug into his closet. He didn't care who saw, either, but luckily, only Mikal saw.
"Mathieu?" Mikal called out," You know you cant be in here. Father's going to be angry." Mathieu ignored his brothers warnings and threw down a box of documents and papers. "What are you doing?"
"Searching."
"For what?"
In a pit of rage, Bellamont slammed the papers he had in his hand down, and shouted,"Damn it, Mikal! Are you that blind? Did you forget someone murdered Mother?"
Mikal's eyes widen with shock. "N-no, brother, I-"
"So why are we not looking for him? Why isn't the legion going after him? Mother's death is in vain right now, and I need o what Mother was hiding from all those years!" Bellamont, with eyes full of tears, turned his head back to his stack of papers. "I need to look."
"For what, though?"
"I don't know, documents, letters. Anything." Mathieu stormed through the papers, throwing some down and glancing at others. "We need a clue who took her away from us."
Mikal sighed. Mathieu was acting unbelievably unusual, but he was right. Mother was murdered under strange circumstances. Mikal bent beside his brother, determined to help him in anyway he could. "We're probably looking for a letter."
Hours passed, and still, both boys were desperately searching through the piles of papers they had laid out. They tore apart the whole room looking for some kind of evidence of who her murderer was.
Mikal, however, was tired. He sat up against the wall and sighed. This might take forever, he thought, and they'll be dead when Father will come home to see all this. The optimism in Mikal, which was faint from the beginning, was now gone. Still, Mathieu was determined, and continued to search all he could. Without really looking, Mikal picked up one last paper, and began to read it. Mikal nearly choked.
Mathieu noticed Mikal's sudden mood change. "Mikal?" The boy's eyes didn't leave the paper. He read it over and over, just to make sure he was reading it correctly. "What are you reading?" Mathieu quickly snatched the paper out of Mikal's hands, and read it to himself.
Alain Bellamont,
The Dark Brotherhood is pleased with your interest in our unholy services. The Night Mother accepts the blood you present to her, that of your fleeing wife, and we'll make sure she shall never flee again. As you request, her head will be rend of her body. I will personally make sure of it.
Yours truly,
L. Lachance
Ps: I strongly urge you to burn this letter, otherwise wondering eyes might see it.
Bellamont was numb. He wasn't sure what he was reading. He couldn't comprehend the situation. Father...he wouldn't...No. His mind went completely blank. Father loved Mother...didn't he? Then why-
"Children!"
Both heads turned around sharply. It was Father, no surprise. Mikal was frightened, pushing himself against the wall. Mathieu could feel only one thing. His muscles tensed at the sight of that pig. Alain glared at the paper Mathieu was holding, and instantly recognized it. The letter he received a year ago, of his decision. Alain breathed in. "I believe that belongs to me-"
"How could you!"
Alain blinked. "Don't talk back when you don't understand the situation, child."
"How could you kill her!" Alain slapped him across the face, leaving it red and bruised. Bellamont returned it with a hard look.
"Don't talk back, period." Alain ripped the letter from his hands, and threw it on the ground. "I loved your mother, and I long for her every day since she left me to rot here. The day she hit me over the head with a chair and fled was the day I knew I would never see her again." The deranged man refused to look at his son any longer. He stared at the ground, gritting his teeth. "I knew this act of betrayal couldn't go unjust, and I knew I wouldn't allow any other to have her. I'm just glad Lucien got to her before someone did try to take her from me."
Bellamont's heart raced. His head as filled with rage. "A monster like you should never claim to love her." He spat out. "You were a jealous controlling pig, and I swear I'll have you die by my hands. Not by some others like a coward you are!"
Alain grabbed the child's neck, squeezing it, and knocked him against the wall. He was set off, enraged by the child's choice of words. He didn't dare let go of his neck. He wanted to crush the life out of him. "How dare you disrespect me, you runt!" He roared," You think you can kill me, then I dare you to try!"
"Let him go!" Mikal rammed into Father's leg, tripping him to the ground. Mathieu fell as well, and choked from the ache of his throat. His mind went blank once again. He grabbed a piece of broken glass from the vase than had fallen, and ignored the pain it caused as he squeezed it. With blood flowing in his palm, and no remorse in his mind, Bellamont did something without thinking.
He stabbed Father in the heart.
Alain coughed up blood. His heart was hurting, the pain was severe. He looked up into his sons eyes, but saw nothing back. No tears, no regrets. Nothing. Father's limp body fell to the ground, while Mathieu just stood there, unfazed. Mikal cried, not for his father's death, but for his brother. He killed, without even hesitating. He murdered with no remorse. Mathieu turned around to his brother, and kneeled beside him. Mikal almost backed away before forgetting who Mathieu was.
"Go to the neighbors," Mathieu ordered in the same tone and manner Mother would have used. "Tell them exactly what happened tonight."
"W...what about-"
"I'll be fine," Bellamont told him. Yet, his bland tone said otherwise. Mikal didn't stop him when Mathieu left the front door, unsure when he'd ever see his murderous brother again.
One thing for sure though. This was no longer his brother. His brother would never hurt someone out of rage, much less kill. Shaking, and trying his hardest not to look at the corpse of his Father, he followed this stranger that used to be his brother out the door.
Before knocking on the neighbor's door, he gazed around, his mind fuzzy. Mathieu was nowhere to be seen.
