"We need to talk."

Astrid's sudden declaration startles me as I enter the Sanctuary again. She's standing at the bottom of the stairs as if she was waiting for me since I left.

"What's the problem?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at her.

"Look. Something is happening here." She sighs. "I'm not sure entirely what that something is, but… well, we need to find out."

It takes a great deal of effort not to purse my lips and say "I told you."

"If the Night Mother really did give you an order to talk to a contact, we'd be mad to ignore it."

This time, I cannot stop myself. "You see? I told you I'm not crazy, and I told you we should listen. I was right all along."

She scowls. "Yes, you were, and I should have seen that. I'm not going to apologize, Camille, but I know more now than I knew then."

"At least you acknowledged that." I state, crossing my arms. "So now you want me to go?"

"Yes." She nods. "Go to Volunruud. It's a crypt, pretty far to the northeast. Talk to this Amaund Motierre. And we'll see where this all leads."

I smile. "Just let me turn in these contracts and I'll set off again."

She nods again and waves me into the main room. I don't mind that I have to leave. At least that means I'm finally getting a foothold in the Brotherhood.

Soon, Astrid will see she isn't the real matron anymore.

"Oooh! Millie, you're back! Back, back, back, from those old contracts!" The jester squeals in his laughter and rushes at me, stumbling when I nimbly evade his embrace. He doesn't falter, however, and his smile never fades. "Oh, do tell Cicero how it was! Did they scream? Shout? Whimper? Did you boil their skin or freeze their blood cold? Oh, please do tell!"

I shake my head, feeling a smirk spreading. "Wouldn't you like to know? Oh, if you had seen the way that chandelier crushed the bard…"

He practically vibrates with excitement and bounces on his toes. "Oh, oh, Millie dear! Please please pleeeeease tell poor, not-murdering Cicero how delightfully violent your contracts were!"

I turn away and walk toward the dining hall without a word, and though Cicero follows me about like a stranded child searching for his parents, I don't mind it as much as I should. His love of violent murders exceeds even my own.

Perhaps someday I'll let him commit one for me.

I turn in my contracts to Nazir and he congratulates me—after demanding that I make sure I didn't contract Sanguinare Vampiris.

"I drank one of Babette's tonics," I assure him. "Trust me, if I had been infected, I would know."

He only replies with a curt nod, his lips drawn into a slight frown.

"Do you have anything else for me?" I ask, absentmindedly rubbing a bit of dirt off the edge of my sleeve.

"I'm sorry, I don't," he replies. "Check back later, after you've finished this business with Motierre. And don't worry—somebody will always want somebody else to die."

I frown. "I can't decide if that's reassuring or not, Nazir."

He gives me his notorious "figure it out yourself" look and I roll my eyes before leaving the room.

It seems like I can't be home for more than a day without needing to leave, but this time, I can forgive that. Hopefully this Motierre's contract will allow me to take a break sometime soon.


Volunruud isn't just another Nordic ruin with skeletons and skeevers. It's got traps and bats and somehow I got lost, which led to finding entire halls full of Draugr and a Word of Power that's probably better suited to my sister Dragonborn than me.

Ugh, sister. She's no sister of mine. Why would I think of her as such? As impossible as it is for us to share blood—she, a Bosmer, and I, a Breton—we apparently do. The Graybeards insisted that we work together, and the Blades made it even worse… I hate this place. I hate these legends. If Sidri Nighthollow wants the glory so much, she can have it all.

Just let me murder strangers in peace.

After clambering back up through the ruin, I finally find the hallway I missed—probably due to stumbling over seven bones and killing two skeletons—and march down the stairs.

This Motierre person is inside a small room, waiting with his bodyguard. He tells me he has no simple contract for me, and drones on about justice and what's best for the Empire and this and that, before finally getting to the point and telling why I'm really here. Amaund Motierre has officially hired the Dark Brotherhood to assassinate the Emperor of Tamriel.

For a few seconds, I'm stunned. Such a thing hasn't been accomplished since Uriel Septim was murdered by the Mythic Dawn cult during the Oblivion Crisis… and now I'm at the cusp of doing it again. It's going to be good – that much, I know. Motierre gives me a letter to deliver to Astrid and a large necklace that looks unique as an up-front payment.

It doesn't seem like the fifteen minutes I spent with Motierre was worth riding halfway across Skyrim for, but it can't be helped. Now I begin the journey back home, to the Sanctuary, and I hate that I'll have to leave yet again when I get there.

I just know Astrid will saddle me with something else anyway.


When I return to the Sanctuary, Astrid is, to no surprise, standing in her usual place against the wall.

"You're back. Good." She states. "All right, so? Did you meet this Motierre? What did he want?"

"Motierre wants us…" I pause and take a breath, "…to kill the Emperor."

Astrid is dumbfounded for a second, then frowns. "You're joking." She says, and when I shake my head, she exhales and takes a moment for it to sink in.

I hand her the sealed letter and the necklace. "The letter explains it all and the amulet is for expenses." I inform her as she opens the letter.

"By Sithis, you're not joking." She whispers, astounded. "To kill the Emperor… the Dark Brotherhood hasn't done such a thing since the assassination of Pelagius." She stands up straight and walks over to the table. "As a matter of fact, no one has dared to assassinate an Emperor of Tamriel since the murder of Uriel Septim, and that was two hundred years ago…"

"The Night Mother would never misdirect us." I declare firmly.

"No, she certainly wouldn't." Astrid agrees, thinking hard. "And… for whatever reason, she chose to relay Motierre's information to you."

"Of course she did. I'm the Listener."

"I don't know exactly what's going on here," she admits finally, "if you're the Listener, or if this is some fluke, or what. But what we now have before us…" She trails off again, and I'm starting to get impatient.

"Will we accept the contract or not?" I demand, struggling to keep my voice level.

Astrid doesn't notice the strain on my patience and laughs. "You're damn right we'll accept it! If we pull this off, the Dark Brotherhood will know a fear and respect we haven't seen in centuries. You think I'd abandon an opportunity to lead my Family to glory?" She asks.

She wouldn't want to know my answer.

"But this is all so much to take in." She continues. "I need time to read the letter and figure out where to go from here. And this amulet. Hmmm…"

"What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking we need to get this amulet appraised. I want to know where it came from, what it's worth, and if we can actually get away with selling it. And, there's only one man who can give us what we need—Delvin Mallory. He's a fence, a private operator. Works out of the Ratway, in Riften. Bring Mallory the amulet. Find out everything you can, and sell it if he's willing. He'll offer a letter of credit—that's fine."

Great, I think silently to myself. Of all the places I never wanted to go…

"Delvin Mallory and the Dark Brotherhood have… history." Astrid remarks, with a low chuckle in the middle of the sentence. "He can be trusted." With that, she motions for me to leave, and I head down into the Sanctuary.

Her laugh had immediately whisked my mind into thoughts I shouldn't have. Maybe Delvin Mallory and Astrid had… history too.

I frown to myself as I contemplate my next move. I really wish I could stay… but then I'd just have to dash off again, and better let the others believe I never came home at all than give them only a fleeting moment before leaving. This contract could mean the return of the Dark Brotherhood, once and for all. It would put the Penitus Occulatus, the Emperor's private security force, in a pit of terror they can't escape from. The others would all understand why I have to go. They must.

So without so much as a word to my other Family members, I turn on my heel and leave the Sanctuary once more.


As I open the door to the sewer system underneath Riften, I turn away at the smell and grimace. I hate this town. I'm starting to hate Skyrim.

Sidri probably isn't going to be happy to see me. I creep through the rodent-infested tunnels, but I don't get very far before I run into a gap. It's too far to jump, and even if it wasn't, the drawbridge on the other side would block my path. I sigh in annoyance and hop down onto a damp, filthy floor.

Looking around, I spot a gate that blocks a set of stairs. It must be how the thieves get into their den when they don't have the bridge down. I pick the lock on the gate, breaking two picks in the process, and then make my way up the stairs. I have effectively bypassed half of the sewers this way, and I'm glad that I didn't have to wade through traps, and lowlifes.

I open a door into a rather dark room, and I can hear the sounds of merriment from the opposite end. I step through, gently closing the door behind me, and I can make out Sidri's voice.

"…I know, I know! At least I managed to pick his pockets and get my gold back, because otherwise, it would have been a serious waste of a hundred Septims!" She was saying. She's sitting on a table with a redheaded Nord beside her, his arm draped casually around her shoulders.

Oh, what have you been up to, little thieving Dragonborn?

He leans toward her and whispers something in her ear, and she giggles. Not just a laugh; not her usual chuckles or snickers.

Lovesick fool.

"Hey!" One of the men seems to notice me, and he shoots up from his chair. "Who're you?"

"Camille? What are you doing?" Sidri storms over to me. "I thought I told you never to come down here!" She hisses, and I roll my eyes.

I smirk slightly. "Sidri, if I lived in a sewer, I doubt I'd be so defensive of it."

"Hey, we keep it clean, and I don't want bloodstains on my floors." She argues, staring me down.

"Your floors?" I repeat with a scoff. "You can't call anything in here 'yours'."

"Oh, that's rich, coming from you, you black-hearted—"

A middle-aged Breton stands up and puts his hand on her bony shoulder. "It's fine, Sid." He states calmly. "Let's hear what she wants, eh?"

I smile politely. "Thank you. I'm assuming you're the man I'm looking for?"

He nods. "Prob'ly am. What's your fancy, darlin'?"

"Astrid sent me." I reply, and his features harden.

"Oh. Oh, I see." He glances over at Sidri and motions with his head. She sighs and waves her hand, indicating that I'm allowed to walk around.

I walk straight to the Breton and he waves me over to a table and some chairs in a dark corner. "So, uh… how is Astrid doing these days?"

"Married." I respond shortly, at which Mallory chuckles.

"Never stopped her before." He snickers, before catching my cold, unimpressed stare and clearing his throat. "Tell her to stop by sometime. We can have a drink. Catch up." He drops his smile and folds his hands on the table. "Ah, but business! Of course. What kind of business?"

"What can you tell me about this?" I inquire, producing the amulet Motierre gave me.

"Let's see…" Mallory frowns, looking it over. His eyes gleam with surprise. "Where oh where did you get this? No, don't answer." He adds, putting his hands up. "I don't want to know."

"What is it?"

"This is an amulet of the Emperor's Elder Council." Mallory says, awestruck. "Specially crafted for each member. Worth a small fortune. Ain't somethin' you'd give up lightly." He leans toward me worriedly. "Look, it ain't my business to tell the Dark Brotherhood its business, but if you killed a member of the Elder Council, you'd better believe—"

"Will you buy it?" I interrupt.

"Buy it?" He repeats. "This? An Elder Council amulet?" He leans back and exhales. "Oh, yes. Oh, yes indeed. Wait just one moment…" He trails off, shuffling around in the shelves to the side of us. Eventually, he withdraws a piece of paper and hands it to me. "Here. It's a letter of credit. Usable, by Astrid only, for any service or item I can provide. As per our standard arrangement. You bring that back to your lovely mistress. With my regards." He gives a charming smile.

"Thank you, Mr. Mallory. That should be fine." I reply, standing up and folding the paper away into my satchel.

"Hey." Sidri interrupts my hasty progress toward the door. She barely keeps the disdain from her glare. "I don't want to do this either, but I got a lead on that old guy Delphine wants us to find."

"Joy."

She rolls her red-amber eyes and grits her vampire teeth. "Come on, you bellyacher. Let's just get it over with and then we don't have to deal with each other anymore."

Astrid won't be getting her letter for a while.


A.N.: What is this madness? Gairi's posting a chapter? I'm really sorry for the wait. I've been insanely busy and on top of that, I've had terrible writer's block for almost every story I have.

I don't think I've ever mentioned Sidri Nighthollow before in this story. She's a Wood Elf vampire who's lived for just about six hundred and fifty years now, which is why she and Camille are Dragonborn. I've started writing her into a story as well, and I hope it pans out, but I haven't written it for a while now, several months, at least. I wouldn't be posting it until after this story is completed anyway, so it'll be a while yet.

For reviewing since the last chapter: thank you to J. APPLEGATE, JM38LACK, and Sidnika. Love you guys! If anybody else feels like leaving me a piece of heavenly review, your username automatically gets a spot down here in the thank-you and you'll have made me happy. More thanks to those who have followed and favorited this since last chapter, as seeing those notifications really makes my day. The last few I got kicked me into high gear and I just powered through this chapter... so I admit it may not be my best.