I was on a ROLL with these chapters! I'm just really annoyed about the amount of speech. It used to be I never had enough speech in my writing. Now it's swapped...

Oh well! Just another goal to works towards! I really hope you're enjoying reading this story as much as I am writing it. I'm kind of worrying about ideas, though...

Anyway, I'm sure we'll manage! Enjoy the chapter!

~STCabbie~

Disclaimer: I don't own TES: Skyrim or any of the characters included in the game. I do own my OC (Imsine) and any other I make up.

(xx)

Imsine panted slightly as she circled the Draugr. She and Cicero had already cleared the majority of the crypt from them. Yet there was still more.

'Oh, Listener! Cicero is wondering...' the jester quickly flung a dagger at another undead's heart, 'when these beasties are going to stop!'

Mossy cobblestone walls surrounded them. They looked solid. A quick glance revealed no misplaced stones or levers.

It wasn't until Cicero started dancing around a large stone pillar in the centre of the room that the trapdoor opened. The little man screeched as he fell downwards, arms and legs flailing in his red-yellow-and-blue costume. Even the bells on his shoes and hat seemed to ringing with more alarm than usual.

'Don't worry, Listener! Cicero is okay!'

Imsine breathed a sigh of relief, before peering down the hole. 'Cicero? Is there a chest down there? Maybe another door?'

'There's many cobwebs, Listener!'

'Oh, great... Stand back, I'm coming down!'

The bottom of the hole was dark and dreary. Sure enough, massive, spindly cobwebs littered the area, making it hard to navigate. Cicero sliced down the particularly thick patches, carving a pathway for them.

'Look out!'

In a flash, a Flame Atronach sprung from Imsine's hand, and started whirling around a herd of Frost Spiders. The beasts scuttled backwards, pressing together, cowering from the fire. Their pincers clicked in alarm and their many eyes rotated in panic.

'They're scared of a Flame Atronach?' Imsine whispered to Cicero. 'I've never seen this kind of behaviour before!'

'Indeed, Listener, it's fascinating!'

'I bet the College would enjoy knowing about this...'

'Now that you mention it, dear Listener, I seem to remember the Falkreath Sanctuary's spider, Lis, had a fear of flame. Cicero accidentally dropped a torch into her pit. Cicero very nearly died! Stupid spidey!'

Barely listening, Imsine nodded mutely as she unleashed two streams of fire onto the arachnids. They hissed and screeched, clacking in vain. It was a matter of seconds before each hairy corpse collapsed to the ground.

'Round up their poison,' the High Elf instructed. 'Babette asked me for some. Apparently one of her contracts wants their victims murdered by an Ebony long sword covered in Frostbite Venom.'

Humming a merry tune, Cicero began to drain the insects of their glowing-green liquid, bottling each bottle with exaggerated care. He soon had a pouch bursting with them. Meanwhile, his boss had started exploring the cave, quickly dispatching the occasional live Skeever. She soon found a wooden chest, patterned with gold swirls, which was locked.

Lockpicks proved futile, so out came the Skeleton Key. Nocturnal had allowed her Nightingales use of it whenever they were on a job or exploring caverns, in case they happened upon any keyholes that couldn't be opened normally.

Inside the chest lay several jewels; an emerald, two sapphires, a flawless amethyst... What Imsine was after, however, was the thing resting at the bottom. A dusty staff blocked the way, and Cicero took it, examining it closely. Wrapped in dusty linens was a delicate, jagged crown.

'Oh, Listener!' Cicero crowed. 'How beautiful!' In a sudden fit of rage with the staff, he hit it off a nearby rock, and yelped as a ball of fire shot out of it.

'Honestly, Cice, be careful! Come on, I only needed the crown. Let's get out of here.'

(xx)

Ulfric was stood with Galmar next to his throne. He'd recently stopped pacing, and Galmar was sat crossed-legged on the floor, looking thoroughly pissed off. Wuunferth the Unliving was grounding herbs with a mortar and pestle, grumbling to himself.

'She should be back by now!' Ulfric snapped, more to himself that anybody else.

'Relax, Ulfric,' Galmar groaned. 'Your precious elf will return soon enough.'

Wuunferth glanced up from his mixture, scowling. 'As long as that damn jester stands alongside her, she'll get out alive.'

'You don't approve of dear Listener's companion?' a voice jingled.

Imsine chuckled, slipping down her hood. Her long blonde hair was tied up in a high ponytail with a thin piece of leather. Dust smudged her pale-gold face, and her amber eyes glowed. A large sack rested underneath her left arm.

'What's that you have there?' Ulfric asked, prying the sack out of her grip. 'It's full to burst!'

'There was lot of treasure down there,' Imsine shrugged. 'We found a massive chest. Cicero got a staff - I'm going to give it to the College - but I think it's just a plain Staff of Fireballs. Either way, I'm sure they'll find use for it. There were a few gems and stuff. Talen-Jei, an Argonian in Riften, wanted some flawless amethysts, so I'll have to visit him at some point.'

'How many tasks can you check off your list?' Ulfric asked. He peered at the sack curiously, shaking it slightly.

'Jester, if I may...' Wuunferth muttered, grasping the staff. He examined it closely, running a spindly finger over the carvings. Cicero grumbled to himself, wandering over to the large dining table in the middle of the room. He picked up a sweetroll and began nibbling on it sullenly.

'Anyway...' Imsine continued, 'I found that crown you sent me to get. The Draugr were determined to keep it, but oh well.'

'Perfect,' Ulfric smiled to himself. 'I've been waiting for this item. I'll sort it out.'

'What are you going to do with it?'

'That's a secret,' the High King chuckled, tapping the side of his nose. 'It could take up to a week to organise. As per usual, you must be present for what I'm planning. I'd suggest going to Riften and the College now, and then hurry back.'

'Fair enough,' Imsine smiled slightly. 'Cicero, take my arm. It's time for us to leave.'

Ulfric kissed his lover on the head gently. 'Have a safe trip,' he replied, stepping back.

Cicero tottered over and clasped Imsine's hand in his own. 'Oh, Listener, poor Cicero does wish that teleportation wasn't necessary!'

'Cicero, it'd take us weeks to complete our trip otherwise. Don't forget how much we have business we have to attend to.'

'Yes, Listener...' Cicero sighed glumly.

Imsine's left hand shone with a bright, purple light, enveloping herself and her follower. Within a few seconds, they were gone, having disappeared from the room.

(xx)

'Welcome to the Bee and Barb,' Keerava greeted. 'A room is 10 gold. Talen-Jei can serve you food and drink. Any good gossip is much appreciated.'

Imsine and Cicero took a stool each. 'We'll have one Velvet LeChance, one White-Gold Tower and two bowls of beef stew.'

Keerava pocketed the gold slapped on her counter and set to work preparing the order. Talen-Jei threw ingredients together in jugs, shaking them around.

'Does this need more salt?' Keerava asked, holding up a ladle of stew. Talen-Jei sipped from it, smacking together his scaly lips.

'No, it's perfect,' he smiled.

Two wooden bowls of meat and juice were placed in front of the travellers. Two wooden mugs of alcoholic beverages soon followed.

'Heard any good stories, recently?' Keerava asked, polishing off the counter.

'We killed a dragon at Dragon Bridge last week,' Imsine began. 'There's a whole flock of Hagravens moved into an old tower near Falkreath, so if you hear of any people moving in that direction, warn them to steer clear!'

'Will do,' Keerava noted. 'I heard that your College is considering rebuilding Winterhold.'

Imsine sat up. 'Really? That's news to me.'

'Mm. The citizens of the hold have been guilt-tripping them so much lately that they've decided to put their magic to good use.'

Cicero pushed away his empty stew bowl. 'You know, Listener, perhaps rebuilding a new civilisation is a good idea!'

The tavern had grown dark. The torches suspended against the walls cast dark shadows against the stones. The chipped wooden tables were all abandoned; the previous inhabitants of the chairs had either disappeared into the city to their homes, or retired upstairs to their rented rooms.

'I think we should go to our beds,' Imsine told her companion, sliding off her stool. 'Thank you for your hospitality, Keerava. Goodnight.'

The Argonian flicked her scaly hand in recognition. As her two guests disappeared up the wooden stairs, she turned to her lover.

'Talen, did you find those flawless gems?'

'O-Of course, Keerava. I've been keeping them hidden as a surprise until the wedding ring is completed.' He yawned slightly, stretching his arms. 'I'm going to start preparing for bed.'

Keerava watched confused as her own companion scuttled away, looking panicked.

At the top of the stairs, Talen-Jei was yanked into a cupboard. Imsine stood with a stern face, arms folded against her chest.

'It took a lot of effort to get those gems,' the High Elf growled, pulling a small sack from her pocket. 'I want to be invited to the wedding.'

'Done!' Talen-Jei cried, snatching the sack. 'Oh, thank you, Dovahkiin! Consider your room free. In fact, it can always be free!'

'That's not necessary!'

'I insist! You've helped me secure a life with Keerava.'

Imsine looked at him. 'Also, I need you to stop spreading rumours about the Thieves Guild.'

'What?! Why?'

'Because,' the elf glowered, 'they have strong connections. If you don't watch your mouth, you'll end up face-down in a crypt of angry Draugr.'

She pushed past him into the hallway, slamming shut her bedroom door. Stripping off her robes, she pulled on a simple tunic, and slipped underneath the woollen blanket on the bed. As sleep started to take over her subconscious, images of Ulfric surrounded her mind. Laughing, yelling, storming, fighting. Every emotion that could have ever been sketched on his face.

'Is the Listener asleep?' a voice quietly jingled.

'Go away, Cicero,' Imsine groaned. 'I'm trying to rest.'

'But, Listener, humble Cicero wanted to know the plans for tomorrow.'

Imsine rubbed at her eyes angrily. 'I have to pay a visit to Maven Black-Briar before we go. After that, we leave for Winterhold.'

The shuffling of slipper-clad feet were audible, as well as the creak of the door. 'Very well, my Listener. Sweet dreams.'

(xx)

'I don't understand what the problem is.'

'The problem is that the Riften Guard are lazy, good-for-nothing bastards.'

Imsine raised the goblet of Black-Briar Mead to her lips and took a sip. 'And what do you expect me to do about it?'

Maven shifted in her armchair. 'I need you to give them a scare.'

'What do you mean by that?'

The fire in the grate crackled, the attractive orange flames swaying and letting off a luminous glow.

'I have an elderly beggar locked in my cellar at the moment. I had him transported here about a week ago. Discreetly, of course. He's a harmless old man, scarcely capable of lifting his feet to walk. He'll prove no challenge to someone such as yourself.'

'What are you talking about, Maven?'

'The only way to get the Riften Guard to sharpen up is to frighten them. Make them realise just what could be happening right under their noses. Don't start spouting nonsense about your conscience and "doing what's right"; the beggar was quite the savage murderer back in his day. In all honesty, you're avenging all of the innocents he killed.'

'I'm still not comfortable with this.'

Maven scoffed, swirling the liquid in her own goblet. 'Stop being such a flower. That Ulfric has changed your view on things, hasn't he? Why, not half a year ago you were slaughtering Grelod the Kind.'

'That was a contract,' Imsine snapped back.

'It doesn't matter. Either way, you've done things far worse than this.'

Imsine growled under her breath. Small sparks of lightning appeared in her right palm, and she thought carefully while they danced upon her skin.

'Fine,' she said eventually. 'I agree to your plan. But what's my reward?'

Maven smiled smugly. 'How about some gold?'

'I have all the gold I could ever want.'

'Well, aren't you lucky? How about a new piece of property?'

'I can just sleep in inns.'

'But isn't it easier to sleep in your own home?' Maven soothed. 'I suppose you could use them to house beggars if you really wanted.'

Imsine thought, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. 'I know what I want. A family of Dumner moved into my city last week, and I need to find the parents stable jobs.'

Maven considered herself. 'Well... I could always open a new meadery in Windhelm. They could have jobs there, if you wish.'

'That'd be lovely,' Imsine agreed, swiftly draining the remains of her drink. 'Now, if you could give me the details of your task..?'

'Of course,' the Nord woman breezed. 'I plan on releasing the beggar into the streets. Many guards will have already been directed to a particular area. All you need to do is go to the area, and kill the beggar. Quickly and quietly would be best. You'd need to wear black robes, and a hood, of course. A stealth potion on hand wouldn't be harmful.'

The High Elf looked at her business partner for several moments. 'I believe I have a better idea. Do you by any chance have any other wrong-doers locked up under your dwellings?'

'I believe that I have a thief that tried to murder my daughter, yes.'

'My recent travels unlocked me the magic of controlling others. Why don't you release the intended beggar, and then I can use the thief to kill him?'

Maven's eyes lit up like a torch. 'Yes, that's an excellent idea! This is why I work with you instead of other idiotic fools. That way we don't risk you getting caught.'

Imsine stood up, straightening her robes. 'Well, then, Maven. I believe our time is over. I'll be waiting beside the shrine of Talos. See you soon.'

With that, she pulled up her hood, and walked from the house.

(xx)