There were two things keeping Zarissis from focusing on the task at hand – one, the thought of Lucien's hands on her body, and two, Vicente's wrath from the night before. She would have sighed aloud, but considering she was smuggling herself onto a pirate ship from a packing crate, any form of noise would not be wise.

A day ago she had loathed the existence of the Speaker, but then the incident occurred, as she had taken to calling it in her mind, and he was suddenly on her mind a lot more. However, something about him still made her nervous. His dominant personality and threatening demeanor screamed 'killer' more than Vicente's state of undeath.

As for Vicente…she desperately wanted to see him, to apologize for whatever she might have done to upset him. She wondered if he knew what had happened between her and Lucien, given his sudden outburst. Maybe he was jealous, she wondered to herself quietly. No, that simply did not make sense. They did not know each other very well, and despite his loving pet names, Vicente seemed much more like the adult fatherly figure than a lover to her.

She shivered, although not from the cold. Being the lover of a vampire seemed like it'd be a very dangerous situation. No more dangerous than being the lover of a sociopathic killer, Zarissis reminded herself.

There was a scuffle, and Zarissis felt the crate she was in being lifted, making her stomach lurch slightly.

"I thought these crates were supposed to be empty? " The voice of a man grunted, his accent reminding Zarissis vaguely of the Skyrim travelers that wandered through the city.

"Feels pretty light to me. Are you sure you just haven't had too much to drink?" A second voice responds, and the crate lurched a bit as it was finally dropped into place. His voice was slightly higher, and unmistakably Imperial.

"Yeah, you're probably right. Well, that's the last of 'em. Better hurry back before the boss gets mad. You know how she gets."

Zarissis listened to the footsteps as they drifted away, before finally fading into silence, leaving her in the cargo dock with only the sound of light swelling of waves against the side of the boat.

With the men gone, the true implications of her situation began to sink in. She bit back fear and nervousness, instead focusing on pushing the lid off the crate and quietly sliding out.

The bay was empty apart from the crates, but Zarissis still felt her hand lingering near the dagger on her belt. Her armor felt a little stiff and awkward on her body, but she figured with a little sweat and blood it'd start to break in.

Zarissis carefully made her way to the hall leading out to the main floors of the ship, stepping as lightly as she could. At every echo and outburst of drunken laughter from somewhere on the ship, Zarissis's heart lurched, resulting in a frustrating scowl. She decided she didn't particularly like pirates, especially when she caught a portion of a story about how one stole the virtue of some poor girl in the city.

If Zarissis hadn't been on a job and therefore trying to be professional, she might have been tempted to kill them all. Then again, she wasn't entirely sure if she'd even survive that kind of attack against so many targets. One she felt comfortable with, any more than that and her chances of survival became minimal.

Ahead of her, light poured from a room, and as she slithered through the shadows voices quickly became louder. The figure of a man materialized itself in a dark cast on the floor, and Zarissis held her breath.

The figure suddenly stopped, as a voice called to him from in the light. "Hey mate, how's that son of yours doing? Still with his ma' in Anvil?"

Zarissis watched as the shadow responded, his hands moving as he spoke. "Oh yeah, he's just fine. She just bought herself a new house, always a clever girl, her. He's gettin' so big. Won't be long before he's tumbling around."

She couldn't see either of the men, but they were close. A part of Zarissis's heart sung out in protest; if she saw them, she'd have to kill them. Unfortunately, overhearing that little part of their conversation made her deeds that much more real. Every person she had killed, would kill, had a family and a life. She was tearing that away from them. Then again, what was she willing to pay for her freedom?

Everything, Zarissis decided. She had come too far to turn back now.

The footsteps neared the door and Zarissis flattened herself against the wall, silently drawing her dagger. The man turned the corner, and without a sound, she landed a carefully aimed stab straight into his heart. His eyes barely registered what had occurred by the time the light faded from his eyes. Pressing all of her weight up, Zarissis caught the man as his limbs went slack, and lowered him to the ground silently. With any luck, no one would notice his death until later.

She approached the door and hesitantly peeked into the room. In the far corner, several men sat around a table with cards out, each studying his hand carefully. Zarissis pulled back before dashing silently passed, hoping that none looked up in the time it took for her to cross.

There were no shouts of alarm or sudden pursuit, proving that her stealthy run across the threshold had gone unnoticed. Further down the hall was a stairwell leading up. Zarissis only hoped that she'd run across the Captain's rooms soon. The less time she had to spend dodging pirates, the better.

At the top of the stairwell was another hall. This time, the voices of the pirates were louder, and even a few rough women's voices joined into the fray. Wherever they were, they were obscured from Zarissis's view. Immediately ahead of her in the hall was a single door. Given that most of the rooms on the ship were simply open archways to the halls, she hoped that was her destination.

Zarissis stealthily slunk over to the door, hoping her armor would hide her in the shadows for long enough. Reaching out, she tried the door, only to find it locked.

Lockpicking was not a skill Zarissis was very proficient in, as she never had a reason to learn it before. Luckily before she left the Sanctuary, Antoinetta caught her on the way out and told her a quick incantation for opening locked doors.

Breathing out slowly, she whispered the arcane words, listening carefully as the lock slid out of place. She placed a hand on the handle, and the door creaked open quietly.

There was no sound or movement from within the room, which was dark. Zarissis slipped inside, shutting the door silently behind her before reapplying the lock. Hopefully, that'd keep anyone out just long enough for her to finish her business.

Captain Tussaud was lying on a large, fluffy bed in the corner, his large stomach rising and falling as he snored. Near his bed was a chest on top of some drawers, and Zarissis quickly found her curiosity getting the better of her. After all, he was asleep and she had been undetected, so she might as well snoop a bit.

The chest was locked, but her spell remedied that, although draining what little of magicka she had. Inside were several precious jewels and a bag of gold, so much that Zarissis resisted a little giggle of happiness at the treasure. She quickly tucked them into the many pockets of her armor before approaching the bed.

Tussaud laid on his back, drool dripping out of his open mouth. The sheets looked badly ruffled, as though he was the type to thrash around in his sleep. Apparently not all of us sleep soundly, she thought to herself out of amusement, Lucien's words ringing in her ears.

She raised her bloody dagger, which she still held in her hand. A sense of euphoria washed over her, her mind reveling in the power that she held. Perhaps this thrill was what enticed murders to do what they did.

Unfortunately, Zarissis hesitated just a bit too long, as a harsh knock rang at the door, followed by a worried shout. Tussaud's eyes flew open, and Zarissis abandoned her meticulous act, instead seizing the man by the hair and tearing open his throat with the tip of her dagger, severing through muscles and flesh. The action sprayed the best and herself with blood, Tussaud gurgling silently as he suffocated. For good measure, Zarissis stabbed him in the chest.

The banging at the door became louder, followed by the desperate rattle of someone attempting to open the door. Zarissis glanced around the room, looking for a way out. Her eyes settled on the balcony door, and without a further thought she ran for the doors, throwing herself onto the balcony before diving off the side of it, cold sea water flooding around her senses.

For a moment the shock of the cold froze her limbs, but once the surprise wore off Zarissis propelled herself forward, grateful that she had learned to swim.

It was a while before she finally pulled herself onto shore, cold biting through her armor. Her hair was a mess and she smelled like seawater, although the blood had been washed off her body. Nearby was a satchel of clothes and food that she had enough sense to hide earlier, just in case. Zarissis quickly dug it back out of the enclave it was hidden in, pulling off her armor for plainclothes.

The great thing about Dark Brotherhood armor was that it repelled water, blood, and any other form of fluid. Otherwise, they might be somewhat pointless. Zarissis shoved her armor in her bag and made her way back to the city, deciding that she had earned a few hours of leisure time.


The Sanctuary was quiet when she returned a couple days later. With the money that Zarissis had stolen from Tussaud, she was able to get a rather nice inn in the city and a bath, as well as a few pairs of new clothes. After all, what girl didn't like to shop?

It seemed most of her Family were off on contracts – even the Living Quarters were relatively deserted, except for the Sanctuary's pet rat, Schemer, who had curled up on Zarissis's bed, his nose twitching occasionally in his sleep. Normally, she would have freaked out over seeing a giant Skeever, except that Schemer was quite docile and sweet, and his fur smelled like floral bath soaps – most likely the work of Antoinetta, Zarissis thought. Besides, Schemer was less disturbing than the animated skeleton that cleaned up the Sanctuary.

With her belongings carefully put away, Zarissis scratched Schemer behind the ear before walking back into the main hall. She wasn't sure if Vicente knew she was back, but either way she'd have to see him. She needed to announce the completion of the contract…and probably apologize while she was at it.

She headed down the hall to his room, where a dim light shone beneath the door. Usually Vicente lit his room through magelights, but this seemed to suggest candles. She was about to knock, but the door swung open before she had a chance.

"Ah, the little songbird has returned! Took a bit more time than I was expecting. I hope you didn't run into trouble." Vicente's face was gentle, with none of the furious wrath that Zarissis had seen in their last encounter.

"Well, no, not exactly, although there was one more casualty then I had been hoping." Zarissis frowned, running her fingers over her customary braid. Her hair was long now, so long that even when braided it hung nearly down to her stomach. She supposed at some point she'd have to cut it, but for now she rather enjoyed the length.

Vicente nodded, although he seemed to already know the information she had told him. He ushered her to sit down at his table, make-shift desk, now absent of some of the paperwork that often covered it. "In the future I'd recommend limiting your kills to only your contracts, for professionalism, but for a first contract you performed well."

Despite his soft tone, Zarissis could tell she was being reprimanded; however Vicente merely smiled and made a motion with his hand, as though he was waving the matter off. He reached into his vest and pulled out a little black pouch, setting it on the table in front of him.

"It is due time that I give you your first reward. Although a bit sloppy, the pirate Tussaud has been eliminated. No one will mourn his passing, and Sithis has been appeased. Well done." As he spoke, Vicente opened the pouch and pulled out a ring, delicately engraved with Daedric letters. It was made from ebony, a metal so dark that it didn't even shine in the light.

He held it out for Zarissis, who took it gingerly before slipping it on her finger. Her mouth opened in a slight oooh as the enchantment became active. After a moment of focus, she drew upon the power in the ring.

The world around her seemed to darken, and Zarissis watched as the man in front of her turned a brilliant ambient purple, the color seeming to glow off his skin. She gazed down at her own hands, only to see herself glowing as well, although somewhat dimmer, as though the spell worked better on those other than the caster.

"Enchanted with some minor assists, such as magic resist and armor, although as you may notice it also contains the Detect Life spell." Vicente waved his hands toward her person, obviously indicating the purple glow. "I would be careful about drawing on the power around others, as it tends to give the bearer's eyes a purple glow."

Zarissis dropped the spell, and slowly the purple faded, returning the world to its normal colors. Her brow furrowed as she gazed at the vampire. "If the spell is called Detect Life, then why does it work on you?"

Vicente smiled, tapping a finger over his chest. "Although it is called Detect Life, my best bet is that it assumes life based on souls. There is life all around us, in flowers, in trees, in the alchemical regents we use. The undead are called such, as they are not technically dead. Although my body has long since abandoned the usual functions of the living, I am conscious." He paused there, and Zarissis noticed his hand rise rather unconsciously to the amulet around his neck, running his fingers over it in thought. She wondered if there was something significant to it, but decided to ask another time.

The elder vampire broke his silence, continuing his lesson. "I live, I have opinions, I eat, I do most things that mortals would do. If you were to use your spell, you may notice that even the Dark Guardians glow, although it may be a source of debate as to whether they have souls." He grinned, as though remembering a private joke. Zarissis wondered if perhaps he and Lucien had gotten into such an argument, the former arguing for the sake of the undead and the latter believing them to simply be works of magic. Although, one might just as easily say that the magic that turned Vicente into a vampire may have rendered him soulless.

Zarissis knew that wasn't the case. It was Vicente who had rescued her from her attacker, when he may have simply watched. He walked her home, taking care to keep her safe. Those were not the actions of a soulless creature, and his friendship to her was as real as any other she could have with any of her living brothers and sisters. She tapped her lips, deep in thought. "But the Dark Guardians, they do not live like me, or even you. Do they have opinions, or comprehension?"

As if he understood her previous musings, Vicente responded with a smile. "When Lucien joined the Brotherhood, he and I discussed this very thing. They may be simple, but I am rather firmly under the belief that even the Dark Guardians have some level of understanding and consciousness. Have you ever yelled at one before? It is surprising to see a skeleton act so rejected." Vicente laughed, and Zarissis found herself giggling in response.

There was something to be said about Vicente. His company was easy and sitting alongside him was comforting and genuine. However, Lucien's actions sometimes seemed strained, as though there was something holding him back. It was not a matter of charisma, for the Speaker had plenty of that. Zarissis was sure he could trick anyone into believing a mouse was a rabbit, if he so desired. However, it was as though there was some troubling memory or past that kept him aloof, although it seemed as though he befriended Vicente fairly well.

The thought of him reminded Zarissis of the incident the previous night. "Vicente," she began, breaking the joyful tone in the room with her own tentative voice, "Why were you so furious the last time we spoke? Was it something I did?"

She was surprised her own voice was as steady as it was, despite the roaring insecurity raging inside. Vicente made a face as though he were about to speak – and fell silent again. Even Zarissis could tell he was choosing his words with care.

Finally, and after much contemplation, Vicente sighed. "I suppose I acted a bit rashly, and for that I owe you an apology. You see, I have some…resentment toward the Speaker that has not resolved itself in many years." He tapped his fingers on the table, and for the first time Zarissis thought she saw a little bit of sadness in his eyes. Whatever had occurred had clearly haunted him for a long time. Perhaps that was why Lucien seemed so reserved, and explained the tension she saw the night she had dueled with Lucien.

Zarissis didn't say anything, but waited for some elaboration. It seemed Vicente knew he wasn't escaping with a simple answer. "Many years ago, when I was still Speaker and Lucien my Silencer, we had a relationship… of a kind."

She tried not to let her shock show, but failed badly. Zarissis had assumed, this whole time, that Lucien was the kind of man to hunt down pretty girls and attempt to seduce him, not ever realizing that perhaps girls weren't his only type.

Vicente, on the other hand, had lived for hundreds of years, and didn't strike Zarissis as the kind to have a sexuality. When she sat across from him, it was as though he saw through her skin and into her soul, assessing her for the type of person she was and not for her appearance or gender. She could imagine him doing that with any number of people, male, female, or otherwise. However, she suspected that he had not been with anyone since Lucien. He seemed to regard the man still as one would someone who they recently had a falling out with.

"I'm afraid I still carry old prejudices," Vicente continued, frowning. "When he was younger, Lucien was just as clever as he is now, and very quick to learn. His ambition raised him through the ranks and landed him as my Silencer. There was some fault on my part, I suppose. I misinterpreted his eagerness to serve the Dark Brotherhood and that damning ambition as some interest in me. You see," Vicente paused, thinking carefully. "A Silencer serves as a personal assistant to a Speaker. Although their position in the Dark Brotherhood is known, they are not often spoken of. Once a Silencer serves a Speaker, they answer solely to that Speaker. No longer do the tenets and laws of the Brotherhood apply. Many Speakers interpret it as a form of ownership, of power, and I was no different."

"Lucien was not the kind to back down from a challenge, and his ambition meant he was hardly going to oppose something if it could land him a higher rank. My interest took me too far, and we became lovers…" there was a pause there, Vicente's eyes searching Zarissis's face for any form of apprehension on the topic he was about to embark. "For vampires, lust and blood are often the same. To be a vampire's lover is a dangerous road of power play, and I unknowingly taught an ambitious and charismatic Brother how to have that form of control over another person."

Vicente sighed. "I worry for you because I've seen it before. While I have yet to tend the wounded friendship between us, I don't mean to destroy yours with the Speaker. I simply mean to warn you of the road you may embark on."

Zarissis had gone quiet, her mind deep in thought. Although he had not directly said it, it seemed to be implied that Vicente may have had some form of affection for Lucien, who likely did not return it. She wondered if that was still the case. She still did not quite understand what he meant by 'power play', but if it was anything like their meeting on the training room floor, then Zarissis might have some grasp of what he meant. How quickly he had torn down her defenses and taken over the situation, leaving her panting on the floor. Was Vicente capable of the same thing, then?

The thought almost made her cheeks burn, and she was sure Vicente had seen the minor reaction, although if he did he chose not to mention it. Instead he watched her in idle silence, likely gauging her responses to the things he spoke of.

She should have been alarmed, but she wasn't, and that made her a little uneasy. She was far more unhappy over the tension between the two. She wanted to speak out, tell Vicente to mend the rift, but given the nature of the evening chose against it.

Instead she stared at the band on her hand, twisting it around her finger. Was she skilled enough to turn the tables on Lucien should he attempt some level of dominance over her? Moreover, did she want to? With Tristeran, his feeble attempt to overpower her had made her angry and upset, but with Lucien, there was a form of calm understanding between the two. He was her Speaker and her new Brother, and to some degree she trusted him not to hurt or kill her, in the same manner that she trusted Vicente.

They seemed very much alike, the two of them. It had not passed her notice that Vicente and Lucien shared similar personalities, although Lucien was more secretive and Vicente was upfront. She imagined that when pushed, Vicente was more than capable of the same menace with which the other family members spoke of Lucien bearing, which Zarissis had seen a glimpse of in their training battle.

After several minutes of thinking, Zarissis finally dismissed herself for bed. Vicente had nodded understandingly, and at last Zarissis stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him in a warm embrace.

She had expected him to break the hold much sooner, but instead both of them didn't move for several minutes, Vicente's cheek resting on the top of her head. There was something to be said about being short – hugs with those who were taller were quite encompassing and comforting. When they finally pulled away, there was a questionable and unreadable look in Vicente's eyes, and Zarissis spent the entire walk back to the Living Quarters puzzling over it.

Perhaps it made sense then that it was Vicente on her mind, and not Lucien, when she fell asleep.