Enjoy!

-Liliedove


Madrale was in the first room before the door closed. She walked across the bridge, preferring not to run into anyone: she had to get what she would need for the journey, and fast. There could have been days or hours before her deadline was at hand, for there was no specific date given on the note. By Sithis! Why didn't Iona think about listing a date for her? As she took the stairs two steps at a time, she passed Nazir. He raised his eyebrows as she blew past him.

"Hey, slow down won't you?" He chuckled. "You didn't miss dinner! I've got some grilled Salmon ready, and some horker meat is still roasting. It should be done soon. It'll be delicious, I assure you!"

She passed the archery range, and had closed the door of her quarters behind her a moment later, her packs from the town now on the floor. Gliding her hand across the top of the shelves, she plucked the ring of keys and proceeded towards her chest. She shuffled through it. No, no no! Nothing in here would do! She closed it. What would she wear? If this person already knew who she was, then what was the use of hiding it? But what if it was something else? What if Iona's thoughts were right? Then all at once, this persecutor would know both of her... private identities. Then what? Madrale tried calming herself. This person knew she was Madrale Uvani. That she was thane of Riften, and owned a home there. What if that was it? Few knew her family name and those who shared it. Perhaps they only wanted to sully her politically, to make the Jarl look bad? That would be foolishness! To point out rumors of things that happened centuries ago! Though perhaps her role in the Family went to prove the rumors as being true. Not that it mattered now.

She pulled her hood from the shelf. Best to just go as Madrale of the College of Winterhold. This person must have known about that at least if they knew she is Madrale Uvani. She fingered through the potions she was meaning to sell in town. What horse should she take? Shadowmere was fastest, but was it the wisest choice?

"Hello, my Listener!" She heard a content hum from behind, then glancing momentarily over her shoulder. She needed to calm down more. If she couldn't even hear Cicero open the door she was as good as dead on the road. She returned her attention to her task at hand. Cicero laughed. "Now, Cicero wonders: what could the Listener be doing? Fluttering about like a bird with one clipped wing! Not anything like the Listener Cicero knows, no not like the Listener Cicero knows at all. The Listener Cicero knows is calm and composed. Never crazy! Just maddeningly sane! All the time!"

"I don't have time for you GAMES, Cicero!" She growled.

He recoiled slightly, shocked at the attitude she displayed. He remained silent as she crossed the room, picking up a few pouches she filled and tied to her belt. Cicero studied her while biting his lip. "This isn't like you. Where could you be going in such a hurry?" His voice was smooth and cooing.

"It's personal, and none of your business." She tightened the band around her waist before snapping the hood to her robes and throwing it over her head. She then paused, gently tucking her hair back behind her ears. He was good at masking, but she could see the look of hurt he was attempting to conceal. She dropped her arms, sighing. She turned and placed her hands on his shoulders, which quivered slightly. "I'm going to Riften. I will be back as soon as I can. I know that I've been absent longer than I should as of late, but this is important."

Cicero looked at her hands, slowly reaching up and pulling them down into his own. "What sort of situation would put the Listener in such a bind? To make the Listener so flighty? Not the usual composure of our cornerstone."

The look in her eyes told him she was hesitant to say. "My identity may be in jeopardy, and with that so may yours. Don't tell the others! Under any circumstance, do not tell the others! I will solve this myself. If the Family is concerned in this matter, I will not allow anything to happen to anyone of you. Trust me Cicero."

He slowly nodded his head. "But of course, my Listener. When have I ever not trusted your judgment?" She quickly slid her hands out of his, nodding her head in thanks. She then walked towards the door. Cicero turned to watch her leave. "Good luck! You need not worry, the Listener can trust Cicero's confidentiality!"


The Listener had disappeared again. It had been four days. Barely had she been back from her last outing that she disappeared again. Again, they were left wondering! Again they sat around in silence, though this time there was something more to the silence than just confusion. There was a sense of irritation, everyone getting on each others nerves more easily than normal. It was clear that no one found her disappearance as something to be left unnoted. No one appreciated this mystery, this sense of being left in limbo. Each sat in their usual seating arrangements for occasions where the table was full: Nazir with Babette to his left and Mariella to his right, Cicero on the far end, Bulmond across from Mariella, and Svenja to his right. The head of the table across from Cicero was where Madrale typically sat, and was of course now empty for some time. Little conversation would bud. Someone might mention a thing, and perhaps most of the table would join into the conversation for a time, but then it would die away again as fast as it came. It were as though they were barely acquainted with one another, which was the opposite of the truth since all they had were each other. One would let out a sigh, another would tap their fingers of foot, and some would just stare down at their food as they ate until they left the table. Nazir grumbled.

"I've had enough of this silence!" He leaned forward in his chair, crossing his arms as a frown creased his brow. Svenja hnmed in agreement.

Cicero clicked his tongue as he scratched his fork against the table, stabbing his meat with a butter knife. "Then why don't you just talk? That will kill the silence."

Svenja watched as the fork dug into the table, jutting her jaw forward as she bit down on her lip. "Would you quit that already?" She growled.

Cicero dropped the fork, then picking up the slab of meat with his knife and gnawing on an edge of it. "It's a bit burnt. I can't tell what this is."

"Deal with it." Nazir said as he huffed out of his nose. "I don't see you doing any of the cooking."

Cicero put his hands up in the air, twinkling his fingers with a dull look on his face. "Cicero takes care of Mother. Would you really like Cicero to care of your food as well?"

Nazir only gave a look of contemplation, then shaking his head and sighing. "This is not like her. This is not like her at all."

"You mean the Listener?" Bulmond looked at the abandoned piece of meat on Cicero's plate, his eyes longing.

Nazir continued. "This is now the second time she's left, and she was back for less than a day! She just disappeared out of thin air! There are a lot of things that need to be done, and with her absence it's becoming increasingly harder for me to handle. We can't just put everything on hold until she comes back, we're already backed up as it is!"

The glazed look over Cicero's eyes dissolved, as he now perked up. "She is the Listener! She must know what she's doing!"

Nazir shook his head again. "Something isn't right. I can just feel it. Something's going on that we aren't aware about."

"Well, who knows what she's doing. We don't really know much about her, now do we?" It was Svenja who had spoken. Nazir gave her a look of skepticism. She pat Bulmond on the shoulder. "What say you? What are your thoughts on the Listener?"

The boy froze for a moment, then regaining his composure. "I'm really... Not quite sure. But, she seems amazing!"

His smile wavered when he saw the grin slip from her face. "Oh? Well, how so?"

"I don't know exactly, but just by being in her presence I feel awed. I can feel it, how powerful she is compared to me."

"I see," Svenja leaned back in her chair. "Yes, I think we can all agree that she's... quite powerful. I have never seen her in battle, but as you said there's a sort of aura about her. That's what makes her of leadership quality. But, do you think she's trustworthy?"

"Trustworthy?"

"Yes."

Nazir sat up, a scowl on his face. "Svenja-"

"Let the boy speak for himself!" She retorted, putting a hand out in front of him. "We shouldn't keep secrets from one another if we are to rely on one another. Let us hear his thoughts." She looked back at Bulmond, who looked rather nervously about the room. "Go on with what you were saying."

"Well, hasn't she lead the organization for a long time? Why shouldn't I trust her when she's brought us this far?"

"Ahh!" A content look spread across her face once more. "Yes, that would be a reason to trust her leadership. However, I've been absent for a long time... I was reassigned to the sanctuary in Cheydenhal, within the province of Cyrodiil, you see. The last time I was in Skyrim I was a wee lass, younger than you two recruits. Back then, another young woman not much older than I had begun to lead the Family. Her name was Astrid. She was a prodigy, such as myself. There were other members who were there much longer than the two of us, but sadly the last of them died recently, within the past year. All at once!" She looked over at Nazir and Babette. "Just how long has... The Listener been a part of the Family?"

Nazir shifted in his seat. "I don't know exactly, it's been a while."

"The Listener was already in the Family when Mother and I arrived at the Falkreath Sanctuary, back when she was simply known as Madrale! Oh, Cicero remembers those days! She was constantly in and out of the sanctuary! Cicero only spoke to her on occasion then. She always has been a silent one."

"Really? How long have you been here?" Bulmond said as he glanced over at Cicero, still eying the meat.

Babette set her fork down, clearing her throat as to draw attention. "Madrale, The Listener I mean, joined a little over a year ago. She made quick progress, some of the fastest I've seen in a long time. It wasn't long before we discovered she was chosen as the Listener."

"Only a YEAR?" The look on Svenja's face was truly shocked. "Well, how can we really trust her then? I had some doubts, but with this information! Why, she could have a sleeve full of plots we don't know about! Loyalties we don't know about, that haven't had time to surface! She's constantly off by herself, even within the sanctuary. Who is to know?"

"Silence, you foul woman!" Cicero had jumped up on his chair, now perching with his fork pointed in her direction. "How DARE you question the LISTENER? The Listener knows best! Her motives should not be questioned! She is loyal to the Dark Brotherhood, to Sithis, and the Night Mother! Even before she was a member! Oh, Cicero knew, for Mother had shown her to him before anyone else had ever laid eyes upon her!"

Nazir and Babette gave him looks of surprise and confusion. "What are you talking about?" Nazir questioned. "You just said that she was a member before you ever entered the Falkreath Sanctuary!"

"Yes, are you not listening? WHO is the FOOL now, HUH?" He jabbed his fork in the air, Bulmond leaning back into Svenja to make as much distance from it as he could. "Cicero said that she had been a member of the Family before he came to the Falkreath Sanctuary, yes! Yes that is the truth! But Cicero met her another time, a time when she was not yet a child of Sithis!'

"When was this?" Bulmond ventured.

"She helped poor Mother and Cicero when his wagon wheel broke! No one would help! Oh, but she did! And she was not a Sister! Cicero could sense it! But Cicero could sense another thing, and of course Mother never forgot her help. No, Mother knew that she would! It was a divine appointment for the three of us to run into each other before the appointed time!"

"I've never heard this story." Nazir said with a frown.

"Oh, well OF COURSE NOT! NOBODY EVER LISTENS TO CICERO! He's just a mad FOOL!"

"Cicero," Mariella said calmly, putting a hand on his arm. His gaze snapped onto her, a beast like look still lofting in his eyes. "Cicero, you can sit down now. It's alright, we believe you."

Cicero's lips puckered and distorted as he wrestled with his thoughts. In defeat he dropped the fork and drooped his shoulders, but he continued perching on the chair.

Bulmond repositioned himself in his chair when the threat was gone. "The Listener was spoken to by the Night Mother, was she not? So how could she not be trusted, if the Night Mother trusts her to do her will?"

There were nods around the table in agreement.

"Yes, a very good point indeed!" Nazir said with a nod. "While I think there is something fishy going on, it is no reason to conclude that the Listener is up to anything of poor character. I trust her with my life."

"I'm sure there's a very logical explanation for all of this." Babette said as she folded her hands together. "The Listener did in fact say that she had been going after those loose bandits when she was gone last week. Bulmond was there, he could confirm that as a witness. I don't know why she left this time, but it certainly must be important."

Bulmond rubbed his chin. "It is rather strange though, that she'd just disappear like that without a word. It's not that I don't trust her, but how can we know whether or not she is doing what she tells us she has done? No one is with her to verify anything."

"I'd like to know a bit more about the Listener myself." Mariella added. "Bulmond and I barely know a think about her. About anything really."

"What are you going on about now?" Nazir had a look of disbelief on his face. "I told you what you were getting into when I recruited you. Say anything else and you're a liar."

"Yes, and if I'm not mistaken you only mentioned that you were an organization of assassins backed by Sithis and the Night Mother, two deities I have only heard about in myths and maid's tales. There was no mention of this Listener, and there is nothing that can prove to me that she truly is who you say she is. How am I, and Bulmond for the matter, to know whether or not this whole thing is real or just a hoax? Something to stir up more fear in hearts, or perhaps more patriotism in us as members? To strengthen our loyalty ties to you? One could easily pretend to have heard from a deity, when in reality they already had the information they gained from other resources."

"Preposterous!" Cicero screamed, now standing on the chair again and pointing at her with his dagger. "BLASPHEMING! And to think Cicero trusted this one! Cicero has been searching for the Listener for fourteen years! FOURTEEN YEARS! IT HAS BEEN FOURTEEN LONG, MADDENING YEARS SINCE THE LAST LISTENER DIED! The only one who would know who the next Listener to be would be ME, the KEEPER! For the Keeper knows the words! The WORDS! Others pretended, and Cicero KILLED THEM! SLASHED THEM! MASHED THEM! THEY ALL DESERVED TO DIE! But Madrale, MADRALE! SHE IS SURELY THE LISTENER! SHE KNEW THE BINDING WORDS! Do YOU know the BINDING words? Do YOU? PRETENDER! MADRALE knew the BINDING words! The WORDS that told Cicero who the next Listener shall be! And it was HER! It was HER! It was her indeed, for Cicero knows the BINDING words and would KNOW if dear, sweet Madrale was LYING! She'd be dead! DEAD! A pool of dried, burnt blood on the floor of that ACCURSED Falkreath Sanctuary!"

"Cicero CALM DOWN! The girl has a point! Put that dagger away already!" Nazir yelled, putting a protecting arm out in front of her. He didn't take his eyes from Cicero's face as he put his other hand on her shoulder. "Mariella, I assure you that it's all real. I too was once a skeptic, on the fence, back when we ignored the Old Ways. The Family faced the wrath of Sithis and the Night Mother due to our infidelity. It wasn't until Madrale came that things went back to the Old Ways, and things then rebirthed into the Brotherhood. Trust me on this."

"Well what about her loyalties? Even if she is loyal to the Night Mother and Sithis, who is to say she doesn't have other ties?"

"That is a good question to be pondered." Everyone's attention was then drawn to the stairs, where Svenja now stood. During the chaos, no one had noticed her slipping away from the table.

"Where have you been during all of this?" Nazir spat.

Svenja took a few steps down the stairs, laughing through her nose. "Well, if you must know... While you were all blindly following someone you don't even truly know, I did my own bit of research."

"You did what?"

Pausing for a moment, she slowly drew her hands from behind her back. In each she held what appeared to be an ebony dagger, but was darker, and with a greater curve to it. "Can any of you tell me what these are?"

There was a moment of silence in the room, blank looks on all of their faces, except for Babette who could only say 'oh' out of realization. Nazir gave her a confused look, then turning back to Svenja.

"They're daggers. What of it?"

"Daggers? Oh, my dear Nazir these aren't just any daggers. These are Blades of Sacrifice. Babette, I take it from your reaction that you understand what that means? On the other hand, Mariella... You are from High Rock, correct? Do any of your people worship the Daedric Prince Boethiah?"

"I can't say that I know... I vaguely recognize the name."

Svenja took another step down the stairs. "Boethiah is the goddess of chaos... Of plots, and deceit. She requires her followers to fight to the death, and sacrifice the innocent who trust them on her altar. Oh, but by the look on all your faces I bet that none of you had even the slightest clue that our Listener is a part of that cult."

Bulmond's face turned white as he glanced over at Mariella, who returned a concerning look. Babette then furrowed her eyebrows. "Boethiah is worshiped by almost all dark elves. This shouldn't come as being surprising."

"And what does it have to do with anything?" Nazir added. "What other gods she may worship has nothing to do with us or her service to Sithis and the Night Mother. There is nothing saying that she cannot worship the other deities."

"Is that what you think?" Svenja said faintly. She then drew closer, pulling up her sleeves. "Her worship of Boethiah has everything to do with us, and her duties! Look!" She displayed her wrists, the skin shriveled and discolored. "These daggers were not the only thing she was hiding! Have you not noticed my cough that I only got rid of a day or two ago? These inflictions will take longer to heal. I would bring the item out for show and tell, but I don't want anymore damage done to me for simply... touching it."

"And what is this item you speak of?" Nazir's expression was now concerned.

"Her badge of office, of course. Only the CHAMPION of Boethiah can wear the armor without being poisoned! Of course, only by Boethiah's blessing this is possible."

"How do you know so much about Boethiah's cult?" Babette's face was narrowed.

Svenja sneered as she crossed her arms. "I'm not so ignorant of the divine and dark ones as you all think, me being a Nord! Why do you suppose Nords don't particularly like races such as the Dunmer? Of course, it is because of where their loyalties lie. The Dunmer worship the Daedra, and while I am not so naïve as to think that with so many gods that everything would bode well if I were to only serve the honorable ones, the Daedra are not of the supreme order amongst the divine. To know that our Listener, our leader, is worshiping Boethiah, a Daedric prince? To know that our Listener is not only bound to Sithis, but also the whims of a lower being such as a Daedra as well? She would not refuse the calling of Boethiah. No, she could not and cannot deny, or else her life will be snuffed out. So that leads me to question, what is it that she does when she leaves this sanctuary? Who is to say that she isn't doing Boethiah's will as we speak?"

Nazir vented through his teeth. "And so what? As long as she does what the Night Mother wants, and she leads this Family, what difference does it make?"

"What difference, Nazir? Wasn't it you who was just complaining about how we cannot wait for her any longer? That we are, what did you say... Falling behind?" She turned, looking now at the jester who had turned to stone. "Cicero... You are one who truly knows the difference between one who only serves the Night Mother and the Dark Lord Sithis, and one who is divided. How do you feel about this?

His lip quivered as he mustered the will to speak. He muttered, barely audible. "You... You are a horrible liar."

"I'm not lying to you."

Cicero began shaking, his fists balled up as he dug his nails into his palms. "Yes, yes you ARE LYING! YOU NEED TO DIE!" He began to lunge, Mariella and Nazir then grasping him around his arms. He struggled, pulling out his dagger. "GET OFF OF ME! GET OFF OF ME YOU INFIDELS!" He screamed, slashing at them the best he could.

"SETTLE DOWN!" Nazir yelled. Mariella let out a cry, still holding onto Cicero as she tightly held her eye shut as a shield from the wound, blood streaking down from beside her brow to the edge the other side of her face.

Svenja recoiled, a look of shock and disgust on her face upon seeing this. "Deny it all you want, Keeper! You are a good assassin and as any other you should be able to be able to pick a few locks yourself. I am speaking the cold, hard truth! In this very sanctuary there is enough proof for you. Ask! Ask your Listener when she returns, see how honest she really is!"

Nazir looked up at her, a snarl on his face. "Svenja, you should leave this room! You've caused enough damage already!"

"Damage?" She scoffed. "He's the one half on the table, knocking things and ripping Mariella's face apart! I am telling you something you all need to know for yourself!"

"JUST GET OUT OF HERE SVENJA! I'M ALREADY CLEANING UP YOU MESS, NOW JUST GO!" He screamed.

Svenja left, returning to their shared quarters. She could hear Cicero still wailing his threats. She slammed her fist against her desk. What would it take to get to these people? Did they have this much blind faith in someone so... so deceitful?! She held back a scream of aggravation. What was wrong with these people?! Were they so blind? The brotherhood would crumble at this rate!

She pulled out the letter she had collected from the orc's quarters. She read it over again, slowly closing it. They were in danger. Their leader was a stranger to them, and disappeared on a whim twice now. Perhaps a regular member, but the leader? The Listener? This Listener who had other ties? No, she could not be trusted, just as she had always thought. She was up to something, something behind their backs. Her attention was not completely on the Brotherhood, and that was dangerous. They needed a leader who put them first above all else. What could the Night Mother been thinking?

"It looks as though I will have to do this on my own." She said bitterly, putting the letter back between her breasts.


Madrale sat astride her chestnut horse. She was right where her predator told her to wait, and she was getting sick of waiting. It was dark, raining, and the wind was ridiculous. The trees swayed side to side, whipped about by it. How long was this person going to be? She questioned if she missed the deadline. By Sithis, she better not have! After waiting even longer, another hooded figure began approaching her from the distance. Immediately she cast a magelight, which distorted her face with more shadows and revealed the figure in full.

"So you decided to come after all?" He paused, waiting for a response. When she wouldn't give him one, he continued. "You were nearly too late." As the wind gushed, he grasped the edges of his hood to keep it about his face. "I know who you are!"

"Yes, you have made that well known to myself and my housecarl. Would you get to the point? I've wasted enough of my precious time on you." The magelight trembled in it's position as the wind continued beating things about wildly.

The man then laughed. "What? Will you shoot me if I don't? Ah, but of course! It's far too windy for that! And to be sure, this rain will dull your accuracy! You will have to come after me with a blade! Or, perhaps a spell, or a conjuration! Something brutal, I'm sure."

Her jaw tightened. "Just who do you think I am then? Other than Thane of Riften?"

"I know who you are! You walk about my city, and walk about my own personal territory! There is no doubt about who you are! Who you REALLY are! You are a member of the Dark Brotherhood!"

Madrale felt a dart of pain when her suspicions were confirmed. "So, what are your ideas of what to do with this sort of information?"

"Many things!' He laughed out of amusement. "I must say, you picked a rather strategic place to stay! Dawnstar is the perfect place to hide from the Legion! But with the direction the war is heading in, it wouldn't bode well with your lot if they know your location. It would give them yet another reason to charge in and destroy that pathetic place they call a city!"

Madrale held her breath. This man was a threat to their very existence. Within seconds, she put her hand in the air, releasing a bolt of lightning from her fingers. The man dodged, but fell to the ground. His hood was thrown off. Madrale squinted, recognizing him. Anger boiling over, she dismounted and took long strides over to the man. He took in a sharp breath of air, quickly picking himself back up.

"YOU!" She spat. "YOU TRATIOR! WE HAVE AN ALLIANCE!"

"Then you know who I know! She is currently unaware, but if you do not comply she will know soon enough! Many are biting at the bit for the whereabouts of your lot!"

She grabbed him by the collar, drilling into his eyes with her stare. "Now tell me how you'll manage to do that when you're DEAD?"

He placed his hands on top of hers, standing on his toes. "Because if I don't report to a particular person by a particular time and date, my information will be passed on! Passed on to so many that you won't even know what will hit you!"

She cursed: she was being blackmailed! She paused, seething. "What is it do you want in exchange for your loyalty then? Gold?!" When he didn't say anything else, she threw him down. "Of course, gold! That's all anyone ever wants!" She pulled out a purse from her belt. "I thought as much before I even left for here. Take it, and be gone with you!"

The man took the purse, weighing it in his hand. "There's not enough here."

"Fine. Then I will tell my housecarl to deliver one thousand septims to one Vekel who works down at the Ragged Flagon for the Thieves Guild." She spat at his feet as she turned to leave.

"Do you really think that this will do you much good? With the way things are heading, you will be found and wiped out eventually."

She turned to look at him once more. "Do you like your gold? Or would it all be the same to you if I kill you right here and now?" He was silent. "You better watch out for yourself in the future, bar keeper. You're digging in places that should be left well alone."