Chapter 2 – Growing up

Astrid was quick to agree with her husband, seeing the darkness in the innocent bundle he brought back. Three years passed, Z simply grew into the child no one had expected. She held a childish charm, a simple beauty despite her physical features hardly being the most gorgeous of women that Skyrim could offer. Z's movements were cat like, yet so controlled many grew envious of her natural talent.

Even as a young child Z held a presence which demanded respect and attention. She held something else too, despite her darkness and her family there was an honour about her that could not be ignored. This was cause of great pride, and greater despair.

"Play with me" She begged shakily. Her words were few, but her learning was stunning everyone. She was near perfect; often her heritage was brought into question only to be dismissed by an angry Arnbjorn or Astrid.

"Not now Z. Go bother Veezara" Babette, a forever immortal child groaned. She stood at the alchemy table, upon a chair as she focused. Her fangs flashed as she once more failed to create the effect she was looking for.

"But he's stange" Z stated with a pout. She looked confused by her own words, Babette couldn't help chuckle. The young Argonian was very strange looking.

Frozen at the age of 10 for 300 years had been a gift for Babette, she was very successful as an assassin and an alchemist.

Her face was rather squared off. Her chin rounded and short with a considerable amount of fat despite her existing as a very lean bodied child. Her eyes were small, glowing slightly orange from her vampirism. Her nose was slightly large, childish but showing early signs of hooking. Her lips were quite full, yet somehow held a slight sneer to them in her relaxed expression. Little scars from her fangs also showed if one looked closely.

"Z, how about you go play with Freddy?" The vampire paused at the look of sadness on the child's chubby face.

"We can play later"

"Okay" Z smiled happily, struggling to make the words sound more adult. She was already trundling along with a happy skip as Babette returned to her potions with a smile. Z was going to learn more than one lesson about the attitude of goats this day.

Z sat bored in the room, using water and mud to make paintings on the wall. Her art was not good, hand print after handprint in an unorderly fashion. The goat stood at the other side of the room, guarding its food with a cruelty most assassins couldn't master.

Z pouted as her watery handprint rushed away again when her breath touched it. She looked at the old cave wall, mixed with the man-made stone. She needed colours; Babette was not in the mood to make them. No one had colours… Except Freddy.

"What! You left my daughter with the goat?" Arnbjorn snarled. Babette grinned and nodded.

"He's chained up" She spoke simply. Astrid shook her head as she began to walk quickly, her boots soundless on the stone floor.

Astrid was quite a large, hazel eyed woman. Her face seemed. rather small. High cheekbones lead into a hollowed jaw on an angle and a squared off chin. Long lips and a small button nose. Her skin was tanned, slowly turning pale from her profession. Her hair was dirty blonde, braided back professionally yet suggestive enough to hold a man's attention. Her body was slim, her chest almost non-existent and her hips lean.

"If she is harmed, so help the Night Mother Babette…" Astrid trailed off as she entered the room, Arnbjorn and Babette close on her heels.

Z sat before her wall, hand prints dripping in red all down them. In horror all eyes turned to the goat, its guts slashed and bent to make a smiley face. The blood running down Z's hands was also across her nose, as she had scratched. It stained her hair and back, she was covered and once more her intent look on the hand prints she was making as if nothing had happened. Just a killing.

"Fucking Oblivion" Arnbjorn mumbled in amazement.

"That's our girl" Astrid was overjoyed.

7 Years Later

Z didn't even gasp as she rose from the freezing water. The magic she wielded was protecting her from the cold, but she still shuddered as the cold air hit her wet hair to the bridge of her nose. She felt the eyeliner running down her face, slightly thicker than the water drops. Her eyes rolled up slightly as she leaned her brow forwards, her eyes intent on the docks of Riften.

She wore the typical leather armour of the dark brotherhood, save she had darkened it all to be black. A black skin tight leather suit that water slicked off, she blended into the shadows yet stood out from a crowed. Her dagger was fastened to her side, the unnamed glass dagger that was to be her first companion.

She smiled. Ten years old and she was allowed to complete her first assassination, positive that somewhere the Argonian Shadowscale Scar-Tail was watching. That assassin had shown better promise as a thief, preferring to discreetly poison his victims rather than draw blood.

Z found Argonians a rather peculiar folk. Their immunity to disease and ability to breathe underwater paired with their stealth skills made them the perfect thief, and a better assassin. Their eyes however were so expressive, crystal almost. She often found herself staring at the nose or teeth of a strange Argonian in wonder.

Z wondered about all races, especially beast folk. She watched from shadows and began mimicking their movements. From watching others move she discovered ways to move herself, to become a better assassin. It was paying off.

Her eyes hit her target, she ducked beneath the water and swum for a while, the water stinging her open eyes. She would regret this later, but for now her mission was important.

Her small hands wrapped around the wooden post of the raised walkway. Flexing each finger she closed her feet around the pole, enjoying how the leather gave way. She shimmied up the pole, ring on her finger ready. She was careful not to touch it, least its poison affect her.

She reached the deck, poking her toes into the wooden cracks as her hands pushed against the sides, holding her body flat against the wood. She waited, counting the footsteps and shuffling backwards, waiting for her target, an Elderly Nord Male, to stop walking and stand still, like he always did looking over the bay.

She saw his toes over the edge, she lashed quickly. The ring shot to life and injected the man so swiftly it could have been a bug bite, but no bug could be as deadly.

"Ah. Damn bugs" The man groaned. Z already was shuffling down the pole to the water. She paused, only to pull a nail or two free so the man would fall. She intended to make his chances diminish in a minute.

The man screamed as the board beneath his foot broke, he fell somehow over the beam and into the water Z had already slipped beneath.

She swum beneath the water, her blade freed. She slashed his Achilles tendon, ensuring his death by bleeding out. She swum and placed her hand on his mouth, her other hand around the back of his head, pulling it down into her hand. He was paralysed, unable to resist as Z prevented him losing his air. She waited a minute before her own need for air forced her to release the man. The air rushed from his mouth in a storm of bubbles.

By the time his corpse hit the surface of the water Z was long gone.

6 Years later

Z opened her eyes swiftly, controlling her muscles to remain relaxed. She winced at the scratches down her hips and ass. She paused for a moment, noticing how sticky her body was. She sniffed, this was not her bed.

The furs were soft, straw beneath a bearskin that was tanned to be tough. On top of that a softer cave bear hide. The fur was resistant to the spikes and horns of an Argonian, yet completely comfortable for a human.

"Veezara?" she whispered quietly, talons breezed across her lower back to wrap around her. She felt a cool chest at her right shoulder, somehow it held warmth. The Argonian skin was a marvel.

"Zee" He carried her name out with a warm affection, his voice rumbling slightly in the soft darkness. Z sighed as she rolled to face him, suddenly self-conscious.

"How long was I asleep?" she whispered, feeling the warm breath brush her face as he chuckled. His breath held little fragrance, something that startled Z was how sweet Argonians smelt.

She smiled in spite of herself, remembering a good night with a gentle man. A perfect first time… once they had been able to work their way around Veezara's tail and sharp scales. The claws had not been as avoidable; Z's behind was currently baring a high amount of proof. Many would disapprove but as some of the best assassins Z and Veezara could keep themselves quiet, and discreet.

"Long enough for your wounds to stop bleeding" he whispered apologetically. Z looked, unsure how to comfort him.

"Pleasure and pain" was all she whispered.

"Hmm. How did I luck out with you?" He asked softly, running his scaled palm down the side of Z's face. He thoughtlessly pushed aside a lock of coal hair with a soft smile on his reptilian lips.

"You're the only one I fully trust. I have no idea how a lizard like you managed that" Z teased, her hands brushing his chest softly. She took in the tiny scales, a patch over his heart with larger scales in a deep emerald. She stroked them, fascinated by this small detail of her Argonian.

"We are crazy teens… What will the family say?" Veezara already had an idea.

"We won't tell them. I'll be the usual outside of this room" Z responded almost sadly, Veezara smiled.

"Beautiful, aloof and dangerous" he leaned in closer, his cold lips touching her neck. Inside his mouth was hot, his teeth fine and sharp. His tongue was silky, the perfect muscle yet the softness to be almost hypnotic. Able to endure the Argonain mouth yet not tough as old boot leather left to crack.

"Don't forget shit crazy" Z added whilst pushing Veezara playfully. Veezara's smile suddenly saddened.

"This is going to be hard" he echoed her inner fears with a barley auditable whisper. Z couldn't use an expression; she instead gave him a blank look with her eyes saying all. Veezara knew her well enough to understand.

"Pleasure and pain" was all she whispered shuffling out of his arms.

He watched her dress with a speed only acquired through training. Z was not a slut by any means of the word; she simply had training in her armour. She was able to name every buckle and crease, as such, dressing took her barely a minute where it took most five. He watched her leave as quickly and calmly as she had woken; her walk was only slightly hindered by the scratches on her body. In a flurry of her dark hair she seemed to vanish the moment she opened his door.

"How does she do that?"

Z watched from the shadows. Her eyes were intent on a young assassin potential brought in by some of the Morrowind Assassins. She felt pity for the boy as she gazed into his eyes, which he was not even aware of.

They were bright blue, defiant and brave. The way they were dim suggested a great sorrow within him. Z knew the look of guilt. She had seen it through countless recruits, before they had failed or had to be "dealt with". She felt nothing for them usually; something about this boy earned her pity.

She saw something behind the attitude he had adopted, there was a softness and respect that nearly stopped Z's heart. It was so similar to Veezara, save his eyes were crystal pale green.

She smiled in approval at the back paint around his eyes; she looked and assumed it was tattooed. So he was a prisoner, a coal miner who had marked himself. The dirt beneath his nails supported this.

His entire body was stained with black dirt, almost as if it had been scrubbed into his unnaturally pale skin. The way he squinted suggested he was not use to light.

"So he has been a slave for years underground"

The boy's hair was hacked short, his neck still red from a burn. He had been branded.

He was shirtless, skin and bones, his ribs clearly poked from beneath his skin. Despite his malnourishment he had considerable muscle for his age, a result from his labour. Z guessed he was about eight.

"Bastards" she almost hissed at the thought of the cruel masters.

His feet were bare, callused along the bottom and bruised. He had obviously suffered; his wild look was only outmatched by a controlled guilt. He seemed aware of Z for a moment; he stiffened and peered closer at where Z had been.

She smiled from above the doorway, blended against the cave wall. She continued to listen about the boy.

He had been caught stealing bread to eat once too often and had become a slave in the mines. He had refused to break and had been branded, and punished. In his pain he had screamed and the mine had fallen in on itself, killing all but the boy.

He had been taken to Morrowind to be trialled for murder when the assassins had saved him, he had no name. Z felt rage as she heard they continued by calling him "boy" for the entire journey. The parents bickered, unable to settle upon an appropriate name. Z stared at the boy, finding her voice she dropped from her perch as she heard them throw an idea out.

"Teinavoh" Veezara suggested. He paused for a moment.

"In honour of Teinavoh of the Third Era. Brother to Ocheevia. Lucian seems wrong for this lad"

Z paused, listening to the mumbles of approval. The boy was still staring where she had been, listening over his shoulder slightly. Z had once more managed to shuffle. She stood in the darkness watching one more, smiling as the boy searched for her. Finally she spoke one name he could use.

"Tai"