Child of Darkness Chapter 2: Journey Into Skyrim: Riften, an elder scroll series fanfic

Child Of Darkness

(A/N: After much thought I've decided to continue with this story, though I can't promise quick updates like usual. Since I've never played Oblivion before, I know next to nothing about Cyrodil beyond the Dark Brotherhood quest line. I have chosen Skyrim as a setting under the guise of a journey, but if anyone can tell me about the Thieves Guild, towns, and other things in Oblivion, perhaps I can change things around. Forgive me if some parts seem to have Lucien out of character. If it really bothers you please tell me and I will fix it to the best of my ability. Until then, enjoy. The story will follow both Mathieu and Lucien's paths from the moment Mathieu was brought under Lucien's care to the end of their lives.)

Journey Into Skyrim: Riften

"Lucien, Lucien, where are we going?" Mathieu demanded, trying to keep up to the man through the snow. He cried out in pain as he slipped and fell. Annoyed he rose and hurried ahead once more to where Lachance now waited, smirking in amusement.

"To another province nearby," Lucien answered.

"But why!? And why is it so cold?" Mathieu demanded, shivering and wrapping his arms tightly around him.

Lucien chuckled then went back to the boy, giving a cape to him. Mathieu snatched it and wrapped it tightly around himself, teeth chattering. "Only to journey there, child; for curiosities sake."

"Liar," Mathieu flat out accused, grouchy at the early start they'd gotten.

Lucien smirked and answered, "Only partially. In my youth I travelled quite extensively. I cannot say I do not miss that. I have waited for an excuse to travel once more, and finally it has come. The sanctuaries in Skyrim have run into some problems with the Thieves Guild. We are going to aid them."

"They can solve their own problems," Mathieu complained, tying the cape around his neck and drawing up the hood. He adjusted the long black gloves that practically covered his arms. Sulkily he marched after Lucien cursing him a thousand times over.

"Watch your step, Mathieu," Lucien warned, examining a snowy trail and relatively steep drop. Probably not steep enough to kill anyone if they fell, but certainly enough to injure them.

"I'm fine," Mathieu argued. Just then the ground began to slip and he caught his breath. He screamed as it gave out beneath him. All at once his fall was stopped. He looked quickly up. Lucien had seized his wrist firmly, trying to appear angry and stern; his eyes, though, were dancing with quiet laughter. Lucien pulled him back up and placed the young child in front of him, nudging him along. Mathieu glared back and stuck out his tongue. Lucien ignored, which burned the put out child more. "I hate you," Mathieu sneered.

"It was bound to happen at some point," Lucien teased.

Four Days Earlier

Silently he stalked his victim. His eyes glittered. So close… He was so, so close… It would only be a little longer. As soon as the man turned, he would have his victory. One attack and his prey would fall. There would never be a more perfect opportunity. He was alone, Lucien was all alone, and he was completely unaware of the predator creeping towards him. Moving cautiously forward he paused. Just a little more. Lucien's back was turned… Now!

All at once he sprang from the cliff with a battle cry and landed on the shocked man's back, knocking him down. Lucien cried out in alarm as he tumbled down a hill with the assailant still on his back. Lucien grabbed hold of his foe. Unbelievable. He'd done it! They came to a stop at the bottom of the hill laughing, the little attacker laying on Lucien's chest.

"I did it, I did it! I got you Lucien, see! I told you I could!" the little one exclaimed.

"I can't believe it. You did! I couldn't even hear you. Excellent, Mathieu, excellent," Lucien praised. "But you aren't supposed to relish a victory until it is a victory." Mathieu's smile fell on seeing the glint in Lachance's eyes. He gasped as suddenly his mentor rolled, pinning him beneath. Mathieu screamed then burst into laughter as Lucien tickled him mercilessly. The child's eyes sparkled with excitement and happiness. Lucien suddenly scooped him up and tossed him into the air. Mathieu laughed in glee and excitement. Lucien caught him and nuzzled his nose with his own.

It was moments like these when Mathieu forgot. He forgot everything. It was moments like these when he forgot that this man had murdered his mama. It was moments like these when he forgot this man was not his father, forgot that he himself was a member of the organization he despised, forgot everything but happiness and love and protection and contentment. Nothing mattered, not the past, not the future, just now. It was moments like these that he felt so safe, so loved, that nothing could ever hurt him because daddy was always there… Except he wasn't daddy…

Daddy was dead. This was Lucien Lachance. This was the reason mommy wasn't here with him now. When that realization caught up, his smile fell to a sad look, then angry, then hateful, then miserable again. But then Lucien's gaze would soften, like now, and he would put him down and whisper like it was a secret, "I have something for you."

Instantly Mathieu's hatred and sadness gave way to curiosity. His eyes lit up in intrigue. "What?" he whispered back, eyes wide, pupils large. He wondered what it was this time.

"Three things, actually. One of them is sweet and warm and covered in a glaze," Lucien hinted, tapping Mathieu's little nose each time.

Mathieu's eyes widened excitedly. "An apple honey nut treat!" Mathieu cried out in excitement. Lucien laughed and produced the sticky goody from a bag. He marvelled at how a child could take such happiness from such a small thing. Mathieu clapped, laughing, and took it. Eagerly he bit in. It was his favorite thing to eat in the world! Lucien beamed at the little boy, grinning lovingly at him. He hadn't meant to get so attached to the child, you know. He'd never planned on it. The boy had just grown on him.

Lucien sat down and brought out a book. Mathieu waited, eyes excited to hear the story Lucien had selected. "What do you think this book is about?" Lucien asked, pointing at the picture on the cover.

Mathieu, curious, looking it over trying to guess. His eyes lit up and he replied, "A Dragon!"

"Let's see," Lucien answered. "Would you like to read it, or should I read it to you?"

"I can't read very well yet. You," Mathieu answered, still busily eating his treat. Lucien did so and Mathieu listened in rapt attention. As the story closed he said in awe, eyes wide as he looked at the last picture, "Wow, the Dragonborn. That's from Skyrim?"

"Yes," Lucien said. "Skyrim is a beautiful land, but very cold and very snowy."

"I wanna go see it one day, and talk to the Dragonborn!" Mathieu exclaimed as Lucien shut the book. Quickly turning to the man, Mathieu added, "Lucien, you said you had more surprises!"

"So I did," Lucien answered. "Close your eyes." Mathieu did so. He heard Lucien draw something out of his cloak and shifted impatiently in his spot. "Open them."

Mathieu did so immediately and gasped, eyes widening. There in a little case lay a dagger, sharp and deadly, glistening against the velvet! "Is that… Is that for me?" Mathieu asked in awe.

Lucien smirked. "Yes. A present just for you."

Mathieu took it carefully and admired it in awe. Suddenly realizing what he held he grinned excitedly. "I wanna try!" he insisted.

"In a moment, Mathieu," Lucien replied, laughing. "Don't you want to see the last gift?"

"Yeah!" Mathieu replied.

"I'm afraid it's not quite as unique as the dagger, but I believe you will like it," Lucien remarked. Quickly he pulled out one more object.

Mathieu beamed and exclaimed, "A dragon!" He grabbed the soft teddy eagerly. Laughing he held it tightly and close.

"Perhaps he will help you sleep better," Lucien gently said, ruffling the boy's hair. He knew that the child had a lot of difficulty falling asleep and staying that way. "Don't forget him."

"Forget?" Mathieu asked, confused.

Lucien smirked and said, "We're going on an adventure in a week, to another province."

He was winded when Mathieu flung himself into his arms and said, "Thank you Lucien." Lucien smiled and held the boy back.

Present Day

They approached a rather large city. Mathieu crinkled his nose. It appeared prosperous, but the buildings looked run down. "What is that?" he disdainfully questioned.

"Riften. I do so love Riften. I journeyed here in my youth. A thief took my purse, so I took his eyes. It was a fair trade," Lucien replied, eyes glittering at the memory. "City of thieves, my son; the main operating point of the Thieves Guild. Hold your purse tightly."

Mathieu blinked then took his little coin purse, checking its contents. He couldn't see why anyone would want his purse. It wasn't much. "They wouldn't steal from a little kid," Mathieu argued.

Lucien laughed and replied, "They would rob their grandparent's blind if it meant gold! Watch anyone within an arm's length of you." Mathieu shifted uneasily then tucked his coin purse into the hood of his cape.

"Halt, you need to pay the visitor's tax," a guard at the gate declared.

"What's a visitor's tax?" Mathieu questioned blankly.

"A shakedown, child. What say you, Mathieu? Shall we humor the thief or… 'deal' with it?" Lucien asked.

The thief's eyes widened and he quickly unlocked the gate, saying, "Welcome to Riften." Lucien grinned coldly then took the boy's hand, leading him into the town.

Mathieu gaped in awe at all the people in the city, eyes wide. It was busy, very busy. "Wow!" he exclaimed on seeing the jewels that merchants were holding up. No wonder thieving was a problem! He gasped on watching a thief snatch a necklace from around a woman's neck while putting on a juggling act to entertain the crowds. "They're good," he remarked.

"And you will get to see their headquarters, child. The Thieves Guild is beginning to get in the way of the Dark Brotherhood in Skyrim. We have a conference to carry out," Lucien said.

"Why did you bring me?" Mathieu questioned.

"The experience. You have often said you longed to travel Tamriel and here we are. Surprise. And this is only one of the many journey's to come," Lucien said, smirking.

"Really?!" Mathieu exclaimed excitedly, eyes widening in delight. "Thank you sir, thank you!" he exclaimed, launching into Lucien's arms, grinning. Lucien smirked and held the boy back.

Lucien led Mathieu down beneath the city and towards the Thieves Guild headquarters. Quickly the two slipped inside and walked through the catacombs silently, weapons ready. "Why do we need weapons?" Mathieu questioned.

"Because all manner of unsavory character hides down here. To get to the Ragged Flaggon we must first make it through the Ratway. Murderers, traitors, petty criminals… predators… Do not leave my side, boy," Lucien warned seriously. This time there would be no antics pulled, accidental or on purpose, on Mathieu's part. He shuddered to think of what some of the men and women down here would do to a lost child. Mathieu was skilled with a blade; there was no doubt about it. One of the greatest he'd ever seen, in fact; but numbers could overwhelm, and the child was only that, a child, and a very young child at that.

All at once Mathieu whirled and attacked something behind them, bringing it quickly down. Lucien started and gazed back at the now dead man. He hadn't even seen the person sneaking up on them. "I can take care of myself," little Mathieu sulked.

Lucien would have smirked and chuckled, even teased the boy, except he knew that defiant glint all too well. Mathieu loved proving his points, and if he didn't watch the boy, Mathieu would make a break for it. "Numbers overwhelm even the best of us," Lucien simply answered with a serious glare, hoping the phrase would erase any such ideas from the child's mind. No such luck. If anything, Mathieu looked even more determined.

As Lucien and Mathieu took down yet another attacker, Lucien wiped his blade, now annoyed. The way to the Ragged Flaggon wasn't even long, yet it was taking almost twenty minutes to reach it with all the thieves and ruffians that had attacked them so far. "They have better things to do, why are they trying to hurt us?" little Mathieu demanded, more angry than annoyed.

"Because we aren't supposed to be here," Lucien growled lowly, seeing another impending attack approaching; this time three men and two women. Lucien looked over at Mathieu, checking the boy's progress. Bellamont was beginning to look worn and tired. Not good. When he was worn and tired, the boy got careless. When he began to let anger and hatred rule him, he got sloppy. They still had a lot of work to do in that aspect. He would slash at anything and everything, often with poor judgement. It would be the child's downfall one day if he wasn't careful. Biting his lower lip Lucien made a quick decision. "Do not interfere in this battle, little one. You are tired," he ordered.

"I can do it!" Mathieu protested angrily, put out at the insinuation.

"I want you out of my way, Mathieu. That's final. You have a bad habit of getting in the way of my blade when you are worn out and angry," Lucien argued.

"I do not!" Mathieu protested, stomping his foot and clenching his fists.

"Well, well, look what the cat dragged in," one of the thieves, a woman, said. Lucien pushed Mathieu lightly behind him.

"Out of the way," Lucien growled lowly. "We have an appointment in the Ragged Flaggon."

"Oh do you now? Well, that's one appointment you won't be making," a man declared.

"Not so fast. Let the man go. We can watch his little whelp while he's busy," another man said, grinning cruelly at Mathieu. Mathieu's eyes widened in fear and he hid farther behind Lucien, all bravery suddenly fleeing. Too many memories had been forced back up; memories he'd longed to be rid of but probably would never lose.

Lucien silently cursed. Some scars were so deep no amount of training would ever fix them, and the thinly veiled innuendo plunged the boy into a time and terror no one would ever conquer but the child himself. When such memories resurfaced, the boy regressed to the helplessness he had once felt so long ago, the sense of being overpowered, worthless, unable to fight back, a victim. His abilities suffered drastically, and now Lucien was left the boy's only protector, a role he was all too willing to fill, and violently at that.

"You have one more chance. Leave or die," Lucien growled lowly to the attackers, as Mathieu whimpered meekly, cowering behind him. When one of the women blew a kiss at him tauntingly, Mathieu buried his face in Lucien's robes.

"Daddy," he meekly said. Lucien turned, concerned for his ward, then looked sharply back.

"You've chosen die? Good. I do so long for a challenge," Lucien growled. They attacked. Lucien seized Mathieu's hand and thrust him to the side. Mathieu, eyes wide, quickly crawled behind the barrels and peered out as Lachance whirled on the attackers, dealing with them as easily as anything one by one.

Some Time Ago

Lucien leaned against a pillar, eyes scanning with disgust the revellers inn. He heard a loud laugh and spotted his contract, as drunk as anything. The man was eyeing him and Lucien grimaced in disgust. Still, he had a job to do. He raised his glass to the man then turned away. Any second now… Sure enough he soon smelled the mead, heard the heavy breathing. He fingered the apple in his pocket and smirked. It would be over soon. He just had to hold out a little longer. He scowled as he felt the drunken contract kiss his neck. It took all his restraint not to draw his dagger. A little longer, just a little longer. The poisoned apple would be so much more satisfying.

He nearly snapped when the man put his lips to his ear, nipped it, then growled, "Newcomer, don't be shy. Why don't we go upstairs? There is no need to be ashamed of what you are here. I can show you how. You don't have to be worried."

With unbelievable willpower, Lucien drew the apple from his cloak and smiled at the man. "Perhaps. Here, have an apple," he virtually purred.

The man was too drunk to see the murder and delight in this strangers gaze, but he was fully aware of the seductive tone, the sultry voice. It could make a lion purr. He chuckled and took the strangers gift, biting into it without question. The man made a face, choked and gasped a moment, then fell to the ground dead.

Lucien retrieved the apple and chuckled darkly, placing it on the table. Quickly he injected the fruit bowl with the poison. What was his bonus? Kill off every reveller there. One of them came and took the bowl, bringing the fruit to the front counter. People began taking the poisoned items. Now all he had to do was wait and watch… and pick off the survivors.

All at once the door was opened and he glanced over, slightly curious. His eyes widened and his breath caught on seeing the newest arrivals. A man entered holding the hand of a small boy. A father and son? Here? But then that would mean… His stomach churned on seeing the cold and lustful look in the man's eyes as he looked down upon his child. His child. This boy that was part of him, his flesh and blood, and he gazed at him like that?

And the boy, he was beautiful. How could his own father even think of hurting him so? Lucien's eyes narrowed coldly as the revellers without 'partners' took notice of the boy. They came to him, leering at him, touching and feeling the child; and all the while the boy only stood there, silently weeping, frightened and helpless yet resigned and brave. He wouldn't draw near his father for protection. The man would give none.

Lucien stood straight, eyes glittering. He drew his blade and caressed it. A comfort. He gazed at the boy. Thick, curly brown hair that fell in waves around his innocent face… No, not so innocent. Not anymore. Anymore? Had he seen this child before? A chill ran through him and something inside screamed that yes, yes he had. But from where? And the boy's father… He looked familiar as well.

The father suddenly called out, "Come, my friends. You like what you see, no?" As if the boy was a prize, the man lifted him up displaying him for all eyes to look upon. Placing the boy down the man said, "We'll be upstairs."

Lucien felt something inside of him drop to the pit of his stomach as he watched the boy sob, as he saw, yes saw, the child's little heart breaking into pieces. Gentleness came to his eyes, concern, and a surge of something shot through him like a shock spell. Protection. Why? Could the thing that had dropped have been the heart he'd long thought dead? He nearly scoffed at the idea, but then the father dragged his child towards the stairs, and he knew… That was exactly what it had been. Laughing, many of the revellers followed, calling to others that it would be their turn next. That was when the boy began to sob uncontrollably. That was when Lucien acted.

Revellers were partaking of the fruit bowl. One by one they were dropping, their 'friends' becoming suspicions. Now was the time to move. He drew the Blade of Woe and finished the stragglers. Swiftly he went after the revellers that had headed upstairs, and one by one he cut them all down. There wasn't even any suspicion. He was too quick, too quiet. And now he was alone in the upper hall.

Silently he stalked it, listening for the sound of a child's sobbing. A child's wasn't the only sobbing he heard. Apparently there were many victims, but they would have nothing to fear anymore. Where was the little one? Desperation playing on him he threw open every door he came to silently until finally he froze. He'd found the room, and he went white on seeing the scene.

The child was there. The child was naked. He felt sick to the stomach. He saw that the bed was covered in blood, and for a horrifying moment he thought it was the child's. He nearly threw up. But then he realized something. The man wasn't moving. The father wasn't moving, the child was pale, and the little one held a dagger in one hand, a red object in the other. Lucien's eyes widened in shock. A heart… The boy had taken out his father's heart… The child began to shake and dropped both the heart and the knife, still unaware of the presence behind him.

Lucien watched, now very attentive. Such skill could be very, very useful to his associates. The young boy was trying to comprehend what he'd just done. The boy gasped in shock as it hit him. It was then that Lucien made his appearance. "You are rather young to be a murderer," he declared, approaching.

Mathieu gasped and spun, eyes wide in terror. His face crumbled into anguish and hatred on seeing the figure. No… he thought he was safe again… He was frightened. He was frightened because this assassin was watching him. This stranger would hurt him and do what daddy always did because that's what everyone else did… No, not a stranger. He knew this man… He knew those eyes. This monster had murdered his mommy and left him for daddy to play with. He burst into tears, exhausted. He wouldn't fight back. He couldn't anymore.

"Hush, little one, shh. Don't be afraid. I will not hurt you," the murderer breathed. Mathieu looked up slowly in disbelief. What? The man neared again. Mathieu tried to disappear into himself, but the man drew out a linen wrap and sat on the bed, wrapping him softly in it. All at once Mathieu could control himself no more.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was in the arms of his mother's killer, the man who had destroyed his life, sobbing helplessly. What else could the assassin do but hold the sobbing child back? He scooped Mathieu up tenderly, rocking him as he wept, and brought the child from the inn where so many bodies lay now. Mathieu looked at them in morbid fascination, but he couldn't look for long. Again he hid his eyes.

Lucien swung up onto Shadowmere's back, the child still in his arms. Gently, protectively, he concealed the boy in his robes and rode towards the nearest town. The child would need clothes, he determined. And food. He would need to be cleaned up. He would need to be returned to his family… But something inside told him that the boy had none. Something inside of him told him that he knew exactly why that was so. "What is your name, child?" Lucien soothingly cooed as he felt the little boy drifting off, exhausted both physically and emotionally.

"Mathieu…" the little one hardly whispered. "Mathieu Bellamont."

"Mathieu Bellamont… I like it," Lucien remarked, though his heart was pounding harder in alarm. Bellamont, Bellamont… It sounded so familiar…"Do you have a family, Mathieu?"

"No," he hardly whispered.

"You will," Lucien replied, throwing the thought that had come to him away. It couldn't be. The boy's eyes widened, now fully awake.

"What do you mean…?" Mathieu gasped.

"Have you heard about the Dark Brotherhood?" Lucien questioned. Mathieu caught his breath. Yes, yes he had heard of them… They had killed his mother. You killed my mother.

"No," Mathieu answered.

Lucien darkly chuckled and declared, "You will."

Present Day

Two of the attackers went to stab him from behind, but Lucien spun the body of a dead member around to take the blows. He took down the two behind him swiftly, finishing them all with nothing but a dagger. Softly panting he looked around. No more interruptions? Good. He went to the barrels and knelt. He became immediately alarmed. The boy wasn't there! He cursed again. "Mathieu, Mathieu, answer me!" Lucien called sharply. Of course the boy would decide to go on ahead.

"Is this it?!" Mathieu called, coming up a path. Lucien sharply looked over and resisted the urge to lose his temper.

Angrily he marched over and firmly took the boy's hand, growling, "I told you to stay near."

"I did," Mathieu argued. Lucien scowled at him and Mathieu backed down. Apparently they had different viewpoints about what was close or not; and ultimately he had lost this argument.

Lucien shook his head then went to the door. "It is," he confirmed. Quickly he walked in before Mathieu could decide to bolt again.

The two walked towards the leader of the guild. The man stood, arms folded, waiting for them to approach. "What business does the Dark Brotherhood have with us this time?" the leader asked, obviously uninterested in whatever it was they had to say.

"I'm sorry, was that exasperation I heard," Lucien lowly growled. "I pray for your sake it wasn't."

"You are on our territory now, Speaker. Lucien Lachance, was it? You will respect our rules here," the leader warned.

"The Brotherhood has never done anything less, but you have," Lucien said.

"Oh? And what do you mean by that?" the leader icily questioned.

"Intruding on our contracts, defying the Dark Brotherhood at every turn. That was not per our agreement. Nor was your stealing of our contracts, or your looting of the bodies. Nor was your overcharging for anything we do in this province, especially near and around Riften. Stay out of our business, if you want this guild to prosper another two-hundred years," Lucien ordered simply.

"Are you threatening us, Black Hand?" the man warned icily.

"Six ways to Frostfall," Mathieu replied for Lucien, not liking the thief.

"Hush you," Lucien warned.

"And who is this defiant little whelp?" the leader questioned.

Mathieu stuck out his tongue. Lucien covered the boy's mouth and answered, "My son, Mathieu."

"A mistake to bring your child alone," the thief stated. "What if things turned… ugly?"

"I would be victorious. But of course I would not want the child to be harmed. Why don't you call on some of your men to take him to another room while we… discuss, matters?" Lucien asked.

The thief was quiet a long moment. Finally he replied, "Fine, but there is no need for bloodshed, friend. The Brotherhood and the Guild have always been close allies. We'll see if we can't work something out." The thief gestured for the woman at his back to take the child away.

The woman smiled sweetly at Mathieu, saying, "Come on honey, let's bring you to get something to eat." She offered her hand. Mathieu suspiciously looked at it, then Lucien. Lucien nodded and smiled reassuringly. Mathieu looked back and took her hand, following her away from Lucien and the thief leader. Uncertainly he glanced back, but the woman assured, "Don't you worry now. Papa will be fine. It's all words, no more."

Mathieu struggled angrily, furious. Of course the younger women in the Ragged Flaggon would start gushing all over the 'adorable little baby with the thick curly brown hair.' Mathieu struggled, angrily shouting at them to let him go as they were brushing his hair and trying to pamper him. He cried out in pain as a knot was pulled. Viciously he made a rude noise with his tongue at the young woman who had pulled. The older women took a sort of sick amusement from it all and let the younger ones have their fun. Mathieu coughed as one girl sprayed him with a perfume. He gagged and made the same sound at her, but what could he do?

Finally he was sulking, arms folded angrily as he helplessly let them completely destroy any dignity he'd had. They were even trying nail polishes on him! Nail polishes; and blushes and bows too! At least they hadn't tried lipsticks yet. He looked at his hands, vaguely amused at the intricate pattern they'd managed to design on such a little nail. He had to give them credit; it had to have taken a lot of hard work to make it. But did they have to do his hair up?

"I'm not a girl," he sulked, annoyed.

"Oh but sweetie pie, you have such beautiful hair," one girl argued. "Can we cut it?"

"No!" Mathieu yelled angrily. "Ow!" he exclaimed as a pin stuck him. "Let me go!" he ordered. "Daddy! Lucien!" he shrieked angrily.

"Oh stop being annoying," one of them ordered, dressing him up in a little jacket. He blinked blankly at it. It looked ridiculous! Even he could see that!

Just then there was the sound of someone clearing his throat. They all turned curiously only to see Lucien and the Thieves Guild leader staring in shock at the sight. "Done so soon?" one of the young women asked in dismay. She'd been having fun with their live doll.

"Just look at him, isn't he adorable?" another girl asked, picking Mathieu up.

"Um, yes?" the leader more asked than anything. Lucien, however, burst into laughter.

"It's not funny!" Mathieu screamed angrily at him; and he knew that it really must have been a sight to see because Lucien never laughed, ever. Unless it was while taking a sort of sick delight in a kill or method of dying.

"Oh stop being such a baby. I'm sure your mother does this on a regular basis," one of the young women nipped at Mathieu.

Abruptly Lucien stopped laughing, catching his breath and looking immediately concerned, eyes falling on Mathieu. Mathieu looked suddenly pale, suddenly terrified, suddenly so many things that Lucien couldn't even begin to identify them all. All at once Mathieu burst into tears. "What did I say?" the young woman concernedly asked, taken aback.

"Let go!" Mathieu shrieked in fury. He struggled violently loose and bolted before anyone could react.

"What on Earth…" the woman who had taken him here asked in concern.

Not bothering to answer, Lucien raced after the boy, calling, "Mathieu! Mathieu, wait! Mathieu!"

Mathieu ran desperately, not even acknowledging the voice begging him to wait. He didn't care. He never wanted to hear or see the man following him again! Murderer, monster, how could you? How could you?! He viciously tore off the ribbons and clothing the girls had dressed him up with. There were attackers who tried to catch him, take him, but he was too fast, he didn't wait, and those who didn't move were stabbed violently. Not killed, stabbed. He burst from the sewers and raced up to the city streets sobbing now, shaking his head in denial, desperately trying to flee from the voices speaking to him in his head. Where was she among the voices? Where was she?! He wanted her, not them, her! Mommy, mommy, come back mommy!

"Mathieu!" Lucien cried desperately out, making it to the main streets. Where was he? He looked desperately around. He saw nothing. "Mathieu," he gasped, pushing through the crowds. He couldn't recall ever feeling so desperate and afraid before. "Mathieu! Please, has anyone seen a little boy? Brown hair, curly," he pled to each civilian he passed, each one answering in the negative. "Little boy, this high?" he demanded from another. Another negative. Gods! Where was he? "Mathieu!" he called out.

All at once a guard grabbed his arm and turned him, saying, "Whoa, what's the trouble?"

Resisting the urge to kill, as was his nature if suddenly accosted, he replied, forcing himself to calm down, "My son, he ran off and disappeared. I can't find him." He would have loved to say he was only acting the part of concerned citizen, but this was far from an act. He was afraid, he was desperate, and he wanted the child back. "Please, no one can leave this city until I do!"

"Calm down, citizen. The gates will be shut, the guards given orders not to let any child out, or caravan. We'll find him," the guard assured.

Lucien hated pleading, hated expressing gratefulness, but before he could stop himself he'd gasped, "Thank you!"

Mathieu sniffed, huddled in a back ally and burying his face in his knees, rocking back and forth. He held his dragon toy tightly, tears soaking the teddy. He wanted to go home. He wanted to see his mommy over the stove cooking, he wanted to play with her again, wanted her to read to him and sing him lullaby's… but he couldn't go home. He had no home anymore. The Dark Brotherhood wasn't a home, it wasn't! He wouldn't let it become a home, he wouldn't! And he wouldn't let Lachance become a father, never ever! Mommy would hate him then, she would be angry with him and she would stop appearing in his dreams and stop talking to him. He didn't need a father, he didn't want a father, he hated fathers! He wanted his mother.

"What have we here?" a voice asked coldly. Mathieu looked sharply up with a gasp. There was an old woman standing there, hands on her hips. He sniffed and gazed helplessly up at her. After a moment her gaze softened and she asked, "Are you lost?" He sobbed and shook his head no, but he was telling her yes, he knew he was speaking, probably screaming. "Hush now, little one, hush," she soothed, bending down and picking him up. "Where are your parents?"

His eyes filled with tears and he sobbed, saying, "Mommy is dead, mommy is dead! He-he killed her, he killed her!"

Horror overtook the woman's features. A murder! The child had been witness to a murder! "Who, child, who killed her?" she asked fearfully.

"The-the dark man!" Mathieu replied through choking sobs.

"Who was the dark man?" she asked. Mathieu shook his head in denial, closing his eyes tightly. "Listen to me, little one, I am going to bring you to my orphanage. Tomorrow we will start looking for someone. Do you have family here, an uncle, cousin, or grandparent? What about your father? What is your name?"

"Mathieu," Mathieu replied. "I have no family," he answered.

"There, there, it's over now," the old woman soothed.

Lucien leaned against a wall, exhausted. He'd searched this town top from bottom. Where was he? He looked around. It was dark, the streets almost empty. Where was the child? He couldn't have disappeared unless… Unless he had been taken… Lucien shuddered at the thought. He had to find that boy, and immortals curse him if he slept at all before finding him. He took a deep breath, calming down. The little one was somewhere here; he could feel it, sense it. He looked around at the buildings. "Sithis help me," he murmured aloud. "Night Mother, guide me to my child… your child."

All at once his eyes fell on the orphanage and something told him to stop. He froze and gazed at it. Was it possible? Could it be? His eyes widened hopefully. Quickly he went to it and knocked, praying someone would answer him. "Come on, come on," he willed silently.

He heard shuffling and hope came to his eyes. The door opened to reveal an old woman. "We're closed," she said simply.

"I'm looking for a little boy. Light brown hair, long, slightly curled. He may have a ponytail. Please," Lucien fearfully declared.

The woman looked alarmed, then curious, then quickly hid all emotion, but her reaction had been enough. Mathieu was here! "We have many little boys," she replied. "Come back in the morning. There's been a murder in town, the mother of a young boy killed by a mysterious man. No one is to enter here. Jarl's orders. He fears the man is looking for the child now, fears the boy is here and the murderer will find him, but he isn't. I would know."

"Liar," Lucien growled to her. "Please, that boy is my son!"

The woman looked uncertain. Finally, though, she drew a dagger and beckoned for Lucien to follow her in. Lucien immediately did so. Quietly she led this stranger into the room the children slept in. "One wrong move you die," she warned. Lucien didn't hear. He approached the beds noiselessly, quietly looking down on the faces of the little ones. All at once he froze by a bed, the child buried beneath the covers. Softly he reached down and drew the covers back. Relief filled him. It was Mathieu, clutching his dragon teddy and curled up. He nodded to the woman, beckoning her over.

The old woman came and looked down on the child. "This is him?" she asked.

"Yes," he replied in such relief the old woman almost let her guard down and handed the boy over then and there.

Quickly she forced the thought away and said, "You'll have to wait until morning, when he can back up your statement. He's exhausted, let him rest. I found him crying in a back alley."

Lucien inwardly cringed. He wasn't honestly sure if Mathieu would back up his claim or not. Not after the incident in the Thieves Guild. Finally, though, he nodded, complying with the terms. He sat down next to the bed and watched. Gently his hand went to a loose strand of hair and brushed the lock away from his eyes. "I'm sorry," he quietly said to the child. He knew the old woman wouldn't let him alone with the children. Sure enough she sat on a rocking chair and began to knit. He didn't honestly think she would stay awake long. He was right. Soon enough age caught up to her and she drifted off. He wouldn't take Mathieu now, though, let the child rest.

Morning came. Lachance hadn't slept once through the night. He heard the old woman start awake and curse. She probably was afraid he had taken the child, or killed him. She calmed down, though, on seeing him still beside the boy's bed, holding his hand softly. "My lady," Lachance vaguely greeted.

Mathieu yawned and stirred, slowly waking. He felt someone holding his hand gently, tenderly. Mommy? Mommy, is that you? No, the hands weren't the hands of a woman. His eyes flickered open fearfully. He gazed up at the man sitting at his bedside. He caught his breath and paled. "L-Lucien," he breathed weakly.

"Shh," Lucien soothed, brushing a hand over the boy's hair lightly, calming him down. He sensed the boy's panic.

Mathieu began to sob again. Quickly the old woman was at the bedside, saying, "Hush, child, hush. Nothing is going to happen to you. This man says he is your father. Is that right?"

Mathieu sniffed, looking up in terror. No, it's not true, he killed my mother! Yes, yes it is true, he is! Wh-what was the answer? He didn't know anymore. He spotted a knife pressing at the back of Lucien's neck and sat up straight, fear in his eyes. The old woman held Lachance at knifepoint. Lachance must have known, though, so why wasn't he attacking or fighting back? "Answer her, child," Lachance softly ordered, and Mathieu began to shiver. He knew now what the story was. He could say no, say no and his mother's murderer would be dead; but not by his hand. But to say yes… What if he never got another chance? And you, Lachance, why are you sitting so calmly, so sure of yourself, of my answer! I could betray you here and now, you wouldn't have a chance! But… but then who would protect me?

"Yes," Mathieu finally replied in a harsh whisper. The lady moved the knife from Lachance's neck and tucked it away.

"He wants to take you home, Mathieu," she said cautiously. Before she could continue, Mathieu had launched himself into Lucien's arms sobbing uncontrollably. The man held him tightly back, rocking him protectively.