Disclaimer: I only own a copy of Skyrim.
Don't flip out too much over the mild LunaxBrynjolf. It'll turn into LunaxCicero soon.
When we returned, Astrid introduced me to the rest of the family: a child-vampire, a grumpy Redguard, a cranky uncle wizard, a friendly Argonian and a pretty Dumner. They all happily accepted me as sister, and I could immediately feel the love from the small family.
After introductions, Nazir promptly gave me my first assignment: Go to Riften to kill the elderly owner of Honorhall Orphanage, Grelod the Kind. I wasn't quite sure who wanted a woman called Grelod the Kind killed, especially since she was running an orphanage, but I didn't question it. Cicero also gave me permission to use Shadowmere as I pleased. He insisted that he rarely rode the demonic animal and that Shadowmere needed a lot of exercise to burn off all his energy.
So I sat in front of my small campfire. It rested near my bedroll, and I planned to stay the night in the wilds. I wasn't afraid though. I had Shadowmere.
Speaking of the demonic horse...
I smiled, watching Shadowmere roll around on his back in the tall grass.
"You're like an overgrown puppy," I spoke aloud to him. Shadowmere promptly rolled onto his legs and stood, snorting in disagreement before shaking his mane and flicking his tail to rid himself of various plants that stuck to his fur.
It was wonderful. I was on my way for my first official job. And although he couldn't talk, Shadowmere was still good company. A very loyal and obedient horse, although he liked to randomly stop so that he could eat flowers or berries.
Flicking his tail again, Shadowmere began to munch at the grass resting underneath. Allowing the fire to slowly die out, I went to sleep.
"Bad Shadowmere!" I scolded when he stopped to sniff and munch on another plant. "At this rate, we'll never get to Riften."
He shook his mane before bucking lightly, just enough to make me slip in the saddle and grab onto his mane to prevent falling off. I scowled at him, and he snorted in response. Damn horse. Once I got situated properly, he finally picked up the pace the rest of the route to Riften.
Ah, Riften. The city of cutthroats and thieves. Perfect location for a first contract kill. I dismounted Shadowmere and became assured by the stable keeper that they would keep Shadowmere fed and watered while I enjoyed my time in Riften.
"Halt! Before you can enter, you must pay the visitor's tax," the guard stopped me the moment I stepped forward towards the gate.
"What's the tax for?" I asked, giving him a suspicious glare.
"For the privilege of entering the city, of course."
I narrowed my eyes at him.
"This is obviously a shakedown," I hissed. I glanced towards the other guard, who was pretending to not notice the scene.
"No it isn't. Hand over the gold, and then I'll let you enter Riften," he insisted.
"You shouldn't be taken advantage of young women like this!" I cried out.
"Watch your tongue, Imperial," the guard warned, pulling out his battle axe. The other guard finally took notice and pulled out his own sword. I scowled.
"How much is the visitor's tax?" I grumbled.
"Thirty coin."
I sighed heavily and handed over the gold before the guard smugly let me in. Once inside, the heavy scent of dead fish hit me, making me scrunch up my nose. I made my way inside the local inn to see a man in robes rambling about Mara. Brushing past him, I approached the counter and paid for my room. Turning on my heel I ran into somebody, causing me to stumble backwards. I looked up into a smirking face that was carefully observing me.
"Never did an honest day's work for all that coin you're carrying, huh lass?" he asked smoothly in probably one of the sexiest accents I have ever heard. A sexy accent with a pretty face wasn't something I needed bothering me at the moment though.
I scowled at him.
"I happened to have worked hard for all my coin," I snapped, attempting to push him out of the way, but he was a bit stronger than me and stayed put.
"Come on, lass, you can tell me."
"Brynjolf!" the inn keeper scolded him. "Leave the poor girl be. She's not interested in your Falmer Blood elixirs."
"Alright then, Keerava," 'Brynjolf' replied, moving past me to the counter. "I do believe you still owe me some coin."
The Argonian stiffened at the words. Brynjolf slid his hands on the counter, smirking.
"I'll give it to you when I have it," she insisted. Brynjolf's smirk was replaced with a warning glare, leaning in to intimidate the poor woman.
"Time is running out," he reminded her. "You best get your coin, and quick. I am not known for my patience."
Keerava gave a small glare back.
"I'm not afraid of you," she sneered. Brynjolf gave a dark chuckle and leaned back.
"We'll see," he muttered to her before turning his attention back to me. "No matter how you earn your coin lass, I can help you earn more."
"Exactly how are you making your coin?" I asked, eying him a tad suspiciously as I shrugged his arm off when he tried to wrap it around my shoulders.
"If you help me with a little job, lass, I'll be more than happy to let you in on the details of where my coin comes from," he half-purred in my ear. I have to admit, I loved the way he called me lass.
"What did you have in mind?" I wondered. He gave a smirk.
"Meet me tomorrow morning in the market, lass," he told me, patting my cheek before exiting the inn.
It was the middle of the night. I had slipped out of the inn unseen through the small window and walked among the shadows to the orphanage. I clutched the bow Astrid had given me, and even allowed me to keep. I opened the door to Honorhall and crept inside. Everybody was asleep. The children were laying peacefully in their beds, and I silently crept forward towards one in slight curiosity. It was a young boy with dirty hair and sickening, yellow and purple bruise forming on his cheek. Frowning, I turned my gaze upon another boy in a nearby, who was drooling a mix of saliva and blood onto his pillow. My blood began to boil, now beginning to understand the reasoning behind the Black Sacrament performed.
I opened a door and felt sick to my stomach upon seeing shackles. Bloody shackles. Silently shutting it, I opened another door to see an elderly woman sleeping peacefully in bed. I grasped my bow and began to line up my shot. Soon as I had a perfect shot lined, I immediately released my hold on the bow. No, this wasn't enough. It was too kind to kill her with a bow that would immediately send her to Sithis. There was a dagger resting on her desk, which I picked up. It was slightly dull, but all the better.
My hand flew over her mouth and nose, making her eyes immediately snap open seconds before I slowly plunged the dagger into her heart. Muffled screams came from her as she struggled against me, but my hand held her firmly down, and I just nudged the iron even deeper. It wasn't long before she stopped struggling, weakly pleading me to stop with frightened eyes. I almost felt bad, slowly pulling the dagger out. She was an elderly woman, kind of reminded me of my grandmother before she passed a few years ago.
But I remembered the bruise and bloody mouth of the children, which caused me to stab again into her chest, making her groan one last time before the light in her eyes was completely extinguished. She stopped moving completely, her breath no longer coming out in panicked patterns against my hand. Her form was completely limp, and I let go of her. Grelod the Kind was dead.
My job complete, I slipped out the back door and into my room at the inn. And everybody was none the wiser.
The next morning, I casually leaned against Brynjolf's stall in the marketplace as the crowd he was entertaining moments ago turned their attention on the Dunmer.
"No! No! I didn't do it! Please, I swear!" Brand-Shei pleaded to the guard, who ignored his protests and prodded him towards the jail.
"Well done, lass," he praised. I gave a small smile. "Looks like I picked the right person for the job.
"Judging by the job, I suppose you make your living picking pockets and taking shiny objects?" I guessed. He chuckled lowly.
"Close," he responded. "I'm with the Thieves Guild. Come find me in the Ragged Flagon when you get the chance, lass. We could use a pretty and sneaky young woman like you."
"Maybe," I sighed. To be honest, I was quickly discovering how much more interesting it was to sneak up behind somebody and kill them rather than pickpocket. Watching them die was more fun than watching them walk away, completely oblivious to my new treasure. "I need to think on it."
"Take all the time you need, lass," he replied, putting an arm around my shoulders. This time, I didn't shrug him off. "Come down to the Flagon when you decide you're willing to join."
"You seem confident that I will join," I remarked. He chuckled again.
"Is your stay permanent?" he asked, deciding to not comment on my remark.
"No, I'm leaving tomorrow," I informed him.
"Then would you enjoy a drink on me at the Bee and Barb?"
Given my past, I knew that I should lay off on romance in general for a while. It was probably best that I didn't accept his offer, but I dumbly did. What was a few drinks going to do?
To my own surprise, I didn't wake up with a major hangover next to a thief. I woke up alone feeling slightly drowsy. Although I remembered a drunken promise that I would return to visit him, I doubted that I would actually return purely for a social visit. I really didn't need romance or whatever Brynjolf was trying to pursue right now.
I left town on Shadowmere and began my long trip back to the Sanctuary. Thankfully though, Shadowmere wasn't stopping as much to eat plants. We camped out for a night before we arrived to our new home. I took the time to swing by the inn and pick up a letter from Sera.
"Luna!" Cicero shrieked the second I walked into the main room. He made a mad dash for me and forced me into a hug. I gave a small, awkward laugh until he let go. "Was the kill really bloody? Did the victim scream for mercy? Ooo! Tell Cicero everything."
I gave a small smile at his enthusiasm, politely answering these questions before I opened the letter.
"What is that?" the jester asked as my eyes began to scan the contents of the letter.
"Hush for a moment, fool," I scolded him lightly. "It's a letter from Sera."
Cicero rested his chin on my shoulder and read the letter with me.
Luna,
My twin! I hope this letter finds you in good health. My health, I must say proudly, has improved dramatically. I feel no more pain in my legs, and I have begun to walk some again The healer says that it would be a while to get my strength back since I spent nearly half a year not using my legs, but I grow stronger each day.
I am sorry to say that we cannot romance the Companion twins. Our Ria has beaten us to it and apparently wed Vilkas four months past. The Companion who carried me to the temple, Farkas, however, is still available although I have begun to take a liking to another. Farkas is a very kind man, like the elder brother we never had.
As I grow stronger, I have begun work helping Tilma clean Jorrvaskr. The poor woman is nearly growing too old for the task, so I provide her much help in the cooking and cleaning, and especially mending torn clothing, which I do not mind at all. It's nice to feel useful and to care for others again like I did before the fire. I enjoy working for the Companions, and I've grown close to Aela though I do enjoy all of their company. She is one of the Circle members, but she reminds me much of you.
I miss you very much. It's quite an odd feeling not having my twin by my side or always within shouting distance of me. You nor the jester spoke of what you are doing in Falkreath. I must admire that I am quite curious.
With love,
Sera
"Imagine her surprise upon learning that Luna's taking souls for Sithis!" Cicero chuckled as I continued to re-read her last paragraph.
I didn't comment, softly biting my lower lip. What would I tell her? Hey twin, I've just been killing people at the request of pissed off Black Sacrament performers and collecting their souls for the Dread Father, so who's the man you've had your eye on? No way in Oblivion.
"You're back."
Nazir's deep voice startled me, making me jump. Cicero seemed unaffected. The Redguard chuckled at me and tossed me a small coin purse.
"Your payment. Word's spreading about how the old hag was killed in her sleep."
I nodded, examining it in my hand as he walked off back into the dining and kitchen area.
"Cicero, do you mind leaving me alone for a bit? I want to reply to the letter and send it off," I requested. The jester danced and nodded.
"Of course! Of course! Cicero will go check on Mother!"
I watched him dance off, rolling my eyes slightly at his retreating form. I searched the Sanctuary for a roll of paper and something to write with. Once I had the quill in my hand, I took a seat at the dining table. Nazir watched me as I silently made scratches on the paper, although he didn't comment.
When I finished my note, I let the ink dry before folding it and walking out of the Sanctuary to town in order to find a courier.
Contracts came slow and were hard to come by. Cicero insisted that this was because there was no Listener, so we had to rely on word of mouth and gossip. I had asked him about what the Listener was, and all I got was half-demented mutters and a mini-rant that I quickly slipped away from.
Out of all my new brothers and sisters, I found a very close friendship with Gabriella. Our bond was first formed on her shared ex-prostitute past, and she had used this to her advantage to kill. Seducing the target like she had many times, and at the most unexpected moment she made her kill. Soon I found myself spending much time with her and Babette. The two girls were very experienced in alchemy. Although Sera was more of a alchemist, they taught me some of what they know.
As for my jester friend, I enjoyed his company too. He made me laugh and smile a lot. Very demented, quite mad and nothing about him was normal, but he was still a decent fool. He enjoyed wandering around the Sanctuary to collect flowers to put at the Night Mother's grave, and on occasion he would bring us back alchemy ingredients he found. I found myself spending a lot of time with him as well, singing and playing musical instruments until Nazir or Arnbjorn yelled at us to shut up. Sometimes I accompanied him on his walks to collect flowers.
More letters came from Sera and I sent others in return. She was now fully able to walk, and her job as the Companions' housekeeper kept her busy and happy. By the fourth letter, I finally learned the name of the man she was sweet on, Farengar Secret-Fire. He seemed sweet on her as well, apparently very generous about teaching her magic and loaning her books. My letters were mostly truthful, which was quite unfortunate. I forced myself to lie to my twin, stating that Cicero and I were helping his friend with their shop. Barely a lie, for the Dark Brotherhood had begun to feel like so. They barely killed for a living anymore since they were relying on word of mouth and gossip for Black Sacraments instead of a Listener. The girls often ended up selling their potions and poisons rather using them during contracts. Astrid's husband contributed to this by forging weapons to sell in town rather than using the dagger he crafted to pierce the hearts of victims.
It barely felt like the Dark Brotherhood I had heard about, the stories about how the Dark Brotherhood slipped into your windows and night and killed you that Ria had told Sera and I as children to scare us felt like false tales.
When we finally received a contract, it had been nearly four months since I first joined the Brotherhood. Being the newest recruit and least experienced, the job was given to me. As fate would have it, the contract was in Riften. Nazir told me I was to set up and carry out the contract with Maven Black-Briar.
I picked up a letter from Sera on my way out of Falkreath, having only Shadowmere as a companion.
"It's about time!" Maven snapped at me when I approached her in the marketplace. She gave me a hateful glare as she looked me up and down. Her voice lowered some as she continued. "I've been performing the Black Sacrament for over three weeks!"
"I apologize for keeping you waiting, ma'am," I tried to be respectful. Her reputation was present even in Falkreath, and Astrid herself warned me to not cross or make her upset.
"It does not matter. You are here, and I have a contract for you," she immediately began. I was a bit taken aback by her rudeness, but I didn't comment on it. "Come with me, so that we can talk in private."
She turned her back to me and walked off. I followed her out of the small marketplace and to her front door, which she unlocked. She pushed the door open, and I walked inside. The home was beautiful and left me a tad awe-struck. I had never seen such beautiful or fancy furniture, food so foreign and mouth watering, a home so big. Instead of ugly barrels and sacks, she had expertly carved chests and hand-sewn, silky bags to hold her items. Many lovely smells hit me at once, the smell of fresh flowers and divine food.
I stood dumbly in the middle of the room until she snapped her fingers at me. I pulled myself out of my daze and followed her to a sitting room. She sat down in a large, comfortable padded chair, and I stood awkwardly for a moment before I slowly and carefully adjusted to another padded chair.
"I need you to get rid of a man named Sabjorn," Maven began "He owns Honningbread Meadery. The Dark Brotherhood is lucky. I was very close to contacting the Thieves Guild to do this job."
"Any specifics?" I asked her as she took a small dessert off a plate and ate it. She thought for a moment.
"Yes, in fact. It needs to look like an accident. I don't want a bloodbath," she replied. I nodded in understanding. She handed me a small coin purse. "I will give you the rest when the deed is done."
"Sabjorn's soul will be sent to Sithis shortly," I promised. She just waved me off before taking another small dessert to eat.
I escorted myself out, carefully closing the door behind me. As soon as I shut the door behind me, I looked up and saw Brynjolf approaching me.
"You've returned," he stated, sounding a bit surprised.
"Why wouldn't I?" I asked back, moving past him to the Bee and Barb. The mouth-watering foods Maven had in her home left me hungry.
I was forced to stop when he put his hands on my shoulders and forced me to turn to look at him.
"It has been nearly four months since your last visit, lass," he reminded me. "Why were you in Maven's home?"
"Does it matter?" I asked, grabbing his forearms and gently prying him off.
"Yes. Maven only invites certain people into her home," he insisted, still holding onto my arms. "Are you in debt to her? You know that she may release you from your debt if you join the Guild, we have a very good business relationship with her."
"I am not in debt to her," I scowled. "Why are you so obsessed with me?"
"You had not returned in nearly four months, I just told you this," he replied.
"And why do you care?" I asked, successfully pulling my arms away from him.
"I missed you."
With that said, he pressed his lips against mine.
Luna,
I have exciting news to share. Farengar Secret-Fire and I are to be wed here in Whiterun at the end of the month. The Companions were very kind to lend Jorrvaskr for a day for the celebration. It would mean so much if you could attend! Even if you cannot make it, please come and visit. I want you to meet him, and I wish to see you again. It's been a while since I've seen you, my twin! You have not spoke much to me about how you are doing. Do you have any romances, or any men you have your eyes on?
Love, Sera
I smiled at the letter as I tucked it into my bag before rolling onto my back and staring at the Bee and Barb ceiling. I could hear some of the drunken yelling of the people below.
After Brynjolf kissed me, I had immediately walked away and barricaded myself in my rented room at the inn. Keerava was very kind to me, agreeing to keep quiet about my location to Brynjolf. I barely knew him. Courtship was short in Skyrim, this I knew, but I didn't know anything other than he was a handsome thief with a dreamy accent. Not to mention, how would romance between a thief and assassin work? I found killing to be more interesting than just stealing, and I had not the slightest clue if Brynjolf would be alright with beginning to kill. If not, we would end up on opposite ends of Skyrim.
I sat up and moved to stand. Reaching for a quill and roll of paper, I began to write my response.
My dear Sera,
I would love to be there. As for my personal romances, there is this guy named Brynjolf.