A/N: Chapter 10 guys. The second half of this fic is progressing well for once, and I am hopeful to complete this one by next summer. I have hope I can do it!

Shadows of the Heart

Summary: Alana was shaken after being betrayed time after time by the people closest to her thanks to her misfortune. Yet she keeps getting pushed into trying to open up by the seductively dangerous leader of the Dark Brotherhood.

*Forgiven*

Dibella's presence felt a lot more powerful in Markarth than it had in recent months, Alana noticed. The blonde vampire was currently walking through the streets of the City of Stone again, and despite being wanted for Thonar Silver-Blood's murder, none of the city's guards made a move to attempt to arrest her. Several did back up when they saw her approach though; humans naturally feared that which was unnatural, and her golden eyes were enough to show she wasn't a human like them.

It was either that or they were afraid of the sight of her zweilhander. Requiem's size alone would intimidate even the most ferocious Nord warriors, even those who made names for themselves slaying the bandits and beasts of the tundra.

She walked up the smooth stony steps and stood in front of the temple. She could feel Dibella's warm eyes on her, and she sighed before stepping in. 'I've come this far. There's no point in me turning back now.'

She entered the temple and was greeted by a Breton priestess wearing golden robes. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

Alana recognized her from her misadventure with Sanguine many months ago. It was Senna, someone who hadn't betrayed her yet.

Alana lowered her hood, and Senna gasped when she saw her. "It can't be…Alana? What are you doing here? Half of Skyrim is looking for you!"

"I need to speak to Dibella," Alana answered quietly. She kneeled before the higher ranked priestess to show her respect, her eyes on the ground. "Please."

"Rise, child." Senna motioned for Alana to stand, and she gave her a nod of approval. "You have permission to enter the Inner Sanctum, former priestess Alana. May the goddess's words light your path."

The blonde rose and made her way to the Inner Sanctum. Once in front of the massive stature of the goddess of beauty, she kneeled before it and closed her eyes. "Dibella…I've come. Hear my prayer." 'I've come seeking forgiveness for the sins I've committed. Please, hear me.'

She felt cold, fearful if she moved she would shatter into a thousand pieces like glass. She didn't dare move until she finally opened her eyes. When she did, she found herself in Dibella's own personal home in the realm of Aetherius, and she stood up.

Dibella approached her, a golden hue surrounding her curvaceous frame. "It is a pleasure to see you again, Daughter of Akatosh. You've come seeking forgiveness, but from who? Have you finally found the answer?"

"I have," Alana answered. "I seek forgiveness from those who I've been unfaithful to. Serana, Astrid, you, and my father Siegfried. I accept full responsibility for what I've done."

"Very well. Your plea has not only been heard, but accepted." Dibella's warm smile faded, and she let out a sigh. "However, I'm afraid I can only remove one of the two curses afflicting you. Both of them run deep. Which one do you wish for me to take away?"

Alana lowered her head, knowing which one she wanted gone. "My misfortune. I can live with having to prey in the night. Being a curse to everyone around me is something I no longer want to bear."

"Very well." Dibella raised a hand, cloaking it in her magic, and she lifted the blonde into the air using her power. "By the power of the Divine of Beauty, no longer will you be the Harbinger of Skyrim. You will be the one who shows her beauty in the night."

Alana landed on the ground and when she opened her eyes she was no longer with Dibella in Aetherius. She was back in the temple, and for the first time in far too long, she smiled.

The curse laid on her by Nocturnal for falling to temptation by Mephala was gone, and she could afford to open up around Astrid and Serana. "I feel lighter…" 'She removed it. I'm finally free from it. No longer will I be a burden to those I care about.'

However, this was only the beginning, and she knew it. She had a lot more to atone for, including letting Madanoch run loose in the Reach. The blonde could remember it like it was just yesterday. The blood of the Nords who were bribed by Thonar Silver-Blood dripping down the stony streets, the victorious yells from the Forsworn, and even how she looked down at the chaos with little more than a snarl. She remembered all of it. 'I was wrong to let him leave the city alive. But Thonar had it coming. He was a disgrace of a Nord. No honor.'

Her magic felt more alive than it had in recent months, and Alana left the Inner Sanctum.

Senna was waiting for her, and she bowed her head. "The goddess found you favorable. Should you ever need to speak to her again, you are more than welcome here."

Alana nodded and went back outside. While she was free from her curse of bad luck, she still was a wanted woman in most of Skyrim, and many of the Jarls and powerful families within the country would love nothing more than to have her head on a spike adoring the walls of the Palace of the Kings.

But Alana really meant it when she said she wanted to be forgiven for what she did, and that meant she had to face the jarls of the land and answer for the crimes she did commit. First on that list was Jarl Thonvar Silver-Blood of Markarth.

She walked towards the Keep, keeping her head down to not reveal herself too early. She doubted the guards would recognize her as the same woman who fought by their side during the civil war, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. Especially around mortals.

'If they don't try and attack me, this will go a lot smoother.' Now inside the keep, Alana made her way up the stairs until her path was blocked by a large warhammer.

"What is your business here, citizen?" the guard wielding the weapon asked. "The jarl isn't expecting visitors."

"I wish to talk to Thonvar," Alana said quietly. "Please, take me to him."

The guard shared a look with his companion, and when given a nod, he lowered his weapon. "Very well. I shall take you to him, but we've got our eyes on you."

Alana followed him up towards the Mournful Throne, and Thonvar raised an eyebrow in curiosity when he saw her approach. "Who are you to approach the Jarl of Markarth?"

Alana lifted her head, her golden gaze meeting his evenly. "It's been a long time, hasn't it Thonvar?"

Thonvar's eyes widened in shock and his housecarl made to draw his sword and cut her down when he raised an arm. "Stay your weapon."

Though he was calm, his voice was thick with anger and he stood up from his throne to glare at the blonde. "You have a lot of nerve coming to me, Alana. Especially since my brother's death, which you caused. Now, give me one good reason not to plunge my sword into your damn throat."

Alana stood her ground, refusing to back down to him. He may have been the jarl, but Thonvar wasn't a warrior bred for battle and bloodshed like she was; she could easily take him if it came to swords. "Madanoch killed Thonar, not me. His arrogance led him to his own demise. He assumed the Forsworn would always be at his beck and call and wouldn't plot under his nose."

"And who had a hand in helping the Forsworn escape Cidhna Mine?" Thonvar countered.

Alana folded her arms and bared her fangs. Even having fed recently and with most of her powers weakened, she was still intimidating to a mortal. "I haven't come here to make war with you, Thonvar. I've come to make you a deal."

"And what might this deal be?"

"Madanoch's head for my name cleared throughout the Reach."

Thonvar laughed, and he shook his head. "As if you would know where he is. None of our scouts have spotted as much as a trace of him since he escaped the mine."

"That's because they don't know where to look." Alana walked over and pointed to the map of Skyrim with her finger. "Madanoch is holed up here. Druadach Redoubt. It's a small hideaway in the northern part of the Reach, northwest of a known dragon nest."

Thonvar crossed his arms and scowled, but he joined her by the map. "So, you know where he is. But who's to say you won't betray me and storm up with him?"

"I have no love for the Forsworn. They've killed too many of our kinsmen," Alana said. "With him dead, they will scatter into the hills. They will no longer be a threat. Two birds with one stone, if you ask me. Not only do you get revenge, but you protect your people at the same time." 'Hopefully my vampiric ways of persuasion will help out here.'

Thonvar growled, but he gave her a nod. "Very well. Madanoch's head for your freedom."

"Then I'll be on my way."

Alana turned on her heel and left, hand reaching for her zweilhander's handle.

Her sword was going to taste human blood, now.

Serana had to admit that Astrid was smart. The assassin leader knew very well that the assassination of the Emperor's cousin would mean the arrival of Titus Mede II was inevitable, but first was the arrival of his own personal security force, the Penitus Oculatus.

They were formidable warriors; handpicked by the Emperor himself, they were the best of the best, taken from the ranks of the Imperial Legion. They were led by a man by the name of Commander Maro, a powerful soldier who made a name for himself during the Great War.

However, Astrid had come up with a clever plan to break him. His son, Gaius Maro, was also in the Oculatus and he was assigned to verify the security of the holds of Skyrim. The objective was to kill Gaius Maro and plant false evidence on his body of a plot to assassinate the Emperor. Not only would it destroy Commander Maro mentally and keep him distracted, but Astrid said that the Emperor would gain a false sense of security; since he would believe an assassination plot had already been foiled, he won't expect another one.

Right now, Serana was stalking Gaius on the road from Dragon Bridge to Whiterun, just past Rorikstead on the way to the hold capital. She had managed to keep out of sight of the oblivious Imperial so far, not letting him get out of her sight in the process. An incriminating letter containing details to the false plot was currently residing in Serana's pocket, and the vampire rubbing her aching legs. Being in a stealthy position for a long period of time was far more exhausting than she remembered, and her irritable side started to show more and more with each passing minute.

If she had to walk in a crouch for much longer, she'd give into her frustration and kill him by draining his very life force.

She was glad when Whiterun loomed in the distance. It wouldn't be much longer before Maro was killed by her hand.

She continued to stalk him like a saber cat does to a rabbit along the road until her and her prey were within the crumbling walls of the city. Serana approached the Imperial, and he turned when he saw her. "I can't stop to chat, citizen. I have important business to attend to."

'Plan A.' Serana was good at acting like a temptress, and she sauntered over to him to place a hand on his cheek. "You're not from around these parts, are you? Neither am I."

"I…I…" Maro's cheeks flushed a little, and he cleared his throat to regain his composure. "No, I have someone I'm betrothed to. It would be wrong of me."

Serana smirked, using her vampiric seduction powers to rope in her victim closer. "Aw, but Skyrim can be very cold and lonely at night, wouldn't you agree? I imagine you would like some company very, very much."

"I would, of course," he murmured. "But I'm a faithful man. It isn't right."

Serana gave up with the attempts at seduction. Either this man was incredibly resistant to her charms or her powers had waned more than she suspected. "Well, so much for this going to plan. Nothing personal, Gaius Maro."

Before Gaius could react, Serana's dagger plunged into his chest. Gaius let out a pained yell and he staggered away with the weapon protruding from his body. "Y-you bitch!"

Serana let the insult roll off of her and she conjured a bow in her hand. She wasn't as good of an archer as Alana or Gabriella, but she knew how to use one. She readied one of the spectral arrows and loosed it into Gaius's head.

Gaius Maro's corpse hit the ground a few seconds later.

Serana let the bow disappear from her hand, and she walked over to yank her knife from his body before she planted the false letter on it. "There. That ought to do it."

Astrid was right. Killing these more important targets was far more thrilling than anything Nazir could throw her or Alana's way. Everything was going exactly as the Dark Brotherhood planned.

Druadach Redoubt wasn't as heavily guarded as Alana initially suspected. When she arrived, it was guarded by two Forsworn archers who quickly fell to her enormous blade. The cave opening was surrounded by spikes with goat heads adorning them, and Alana rested her zweilhander on her shoulder. 'For being the place that hides the leader of the Forsworn, it's not heavily defended on the perimeter. Is it hiding a much larger force inside, or did they assume no one would think to look here?'

It was a question soon to be answered as she stepped into the hideaway.

Inside, it was home to no less than twenty members of the Forsworn, including Madanoch. 'There you are.'

The leader of the Forsworn was talking to the large Orc she recognized as Borkul the Beast. An absolute brute of an Orc, he would probably be her biggest threat. She felt her blood pump as the Forsworn all turned to her, muttering amongst themselves. 'That's right. Look while you can.'

Madanoch smiled coldly and approached her, flanked by his loyal men and women. "Well, if it isn't our favorite Nord friend who helped us escape. You've changed a bit since we last had the pleasure of meeting. So, what do you want? Here to warm a few beds?"

"You wish," Alana snarled. "I'm here to bring your head to Thonvar. Nothing personal."

The Forsworn closest to her attacked first. A grave mistake, as Alana's unnatural speed and strength overpowered them instantly. She swung her giant blade in an arc and cut them in half, showering herself and the ground in a red spray. Their corpses hit the uneven floorboards, and Alana raised Requiem to block a flurry of arrows.

They harmlessly bounced off the tough steel, and Alana grinned savagely at Madanoch as his men continued to pepper her with arrows to little effect. "Sorry, but you'll have to do much better than that."

Alana closed the distance between her and the Forsworn she recognized as the one who lost his daughter. She did feel sorry for him, but he killed far too many innocents for him to be spared.

She cut him down without hesitation, his screams ringing hollow in her ears.

Borkul launched himself at her with a roar. His berserker ability was active, and he swung his axe with all his fury behind it. Alana met it with Requiem, and her blade shattered the war axe. Splinters of metal and bone flew everywhere, and her momentum carried her zweilhander through the Orc's torso.

With Borkul taken care of, she continued to cut a bloody swathe through the Forsworn. A Briarheart charged at her with an angry yell, and Alana sidestepped the clumsy and predictable attack. He tumbled down the stairs and Alana cut him in two.

Two mages met their doom as well and the blood sprayed over her body as she approached a horrified Madanoch. The leader of the Forsworn was crawling away from her as she approached with her sword gently dragging on the dirt, and he spat angrily.

"I should've expected this betrayal from you, you wench," he said, eyes alight with fear. "You won't get away with this!"

"I think I will. Your reign of terror throughout the Reach is over." Alana didn't even blink as her sword removed his head from his scrawny shoulders. His headless corpse fell on the ground, and the blonde warrior placed her heavy sword across her back before she grabbed the head by his scraggly hair. She tossed it in an empty knapsack and carried it out.

Time to return to Thonvar.

Thonvar blinked in surprise when he saw Alana approach him. "Back so soon, are we? Does that mean you were successful?"

Alana nodded and tossed the knapsack containing Madanoch's head at the jarl's feet. "I am. Inside is the head of Madanoch, and his forces are no longer a threat to Markarth." 'Not like he put up much of a fight. Even if I didn't have my father's sword, I could have taken them all without much harm.'

Thonvar picked up the sack and peered in, and he gave her a nod of approval. "Very well. A true Nord keeps his word to a fellow kinsman. By the authority granted to me as the Jarl of Markarth, I declare your name to be cleared throughout my hold. You will never need to fear walking the streets of any settlements in the Reach."

The blonde let out a sigh of relief, bowing her head to show her gratitude. "Thank you, Thonvar. I won't forget this gesture." She turned away from the jarl and headed downstairs out of the keep.

She was finally on the right path, but it was still just the start of her repent and it would to continue to be paved with bloodshed.

Astrid could understand being frustrated with a lack of excitement. She could understand not having anyone else to turn to; she hadn't met a lunatic who she didn't like for some reason or another. The Dark Brotherhood thrived on being the most dysfunctional yet tight-knit family in Skyrim, from immortal ten year olds, vampires, and werewolves to wizards and former drug addicts.

But by Sithis, she really couldn't stand Cicero at all.

Just his very voice got under her skin, and if he weren't the Keeper, she would've probably had Alana kill him already.

Currently the jester was moaning and groaning about the blonde warrior being the Listener, saying it wasn't right for an immortal to be the one who heard the Night Mother's voice. Personally, Astrid didn't give a damn what Cicero thought, but his words still seemed to have an effect on Veezara and Festus; the two had taken to murmuring behind her back, and she was sure that they were plotting something.

What though, she was uncertain. But the way they kept looking at her and talking in hushed whispers made her very uncomfortable. 'I don't like this. I feel like a plot against the Brotherhood is starting.'

Serana was on her way back from Whiterun and Alana was somewhere in the Reach, which meant she only had two people she could properly confide her suspicions to.

Nazir and Lucien Lachance.

The blonde sighed and walked over to where the Redguard warrior sat. She'd talk to Lucien later tonight once one of the two vampires returned. 'He'll have to do.'

Nazir was sipping from a bottle of Bretonese whiskey at the long dinner table and he looked up when he saw his mistress approach. "Astrid? What can I do for you?"

Astrid took a seat across from him, slicking her hair back. "I want to talk. I have a very bad feeling about something and was hoping you'd be willing to tell me your thoughts on it."

"Go ahead. I'm all ears."

"It's about Cicero. I'm sure you've noticed that he's not exactly the sanest of us here," Astrid began. "In fact, he's probably even more mad than even Festus, and that's an achievement. His madness aside, I think he's plotting something. Haven't you noticed how Festus and Veezara have taken to murmuring something whenever I'm nearby?"

Nazir nodded, stroking his knotted beard carefully. "I have. However, I don't think it's them you should be worried about. The Listener hasn't been back, and it's been several days since she left for Markarth. It's unlikely that she's been killed, due to her reputation as a warrior, but one can never be too careful. Being the walking bad luck charm she is, it is possible that she met her demise out in the Reach."

"You can't really think someone of her skill was killed by some Forsworn." Astrid let out a scoff. "You saw the dragon corpse outside; the damn thing was missing its head and a wing."

"An impressive display, sure," Nazir agreed. "But her skill depends on using brute strength alone. The only reason she's still alive is dumb luck and willpower."

"You dare to disrespect our Listener!?" a crazed voice shrieked. Astrid whirled around to see Cicero standing behind them with a maniacal glint in his eyes and his dagger drawn. "You'll die for your crimes!"

He lunged out, and Astrid rolled out of the way. "Stop this madness! That's an order!"

The jester ignored her command and continued to attack, cackling like a madman as he whirled around the two with his dagger slashing. "The Night Mother will rejoice in your death, traitor! Ahahaha!"

The sounds of chaos alerted the other members of the Sanctuary, and Veezara to her surprise rushed in to block a possibly fatal blow with his sword. He bared his teeth in a snarl, pushing the jester back. "Astrid, get back!"

The Argonian tried to parry a second blow, but Cicero's dagger twisted at the last minute and cut through his stomach. He crashed on the ground with a pained yell, and Cicero cackled before he ran out of the Sanctuary. "Ahahaha!"

Astrid helped Veezara to his feet and he was clutching his wounded side with a sharp hiss of pain. "Dammit. That little jester is good with a blade, I have to admit."

He laughed bitterly, shaking his pointed head. "Bested by a damn fool. I guess I was the bigger fool."

"Hush, Brother," Astrid murmured, helping him to Babette's medicinal chamber. "I am in your debt. You didn't have to take that hit for me. You just rest easy; we'll handle this mess from here on."

She was grateful when she heard the Sanctuary door open again and Alana entered. Her golden eyes were wide with concern upon seeing the condition the Sanctuary was in, and her hand was already on her zweilhander. "What the hell happened!?"

"Cicero went absolutely berserk," Astrid answered, shaking her head. "He just attacked me and Nazir for absolutely no reason, wounded Veezara and fled. Did you see him?"

Alana shook her head, and her gaze darkened. "No. But I saw tracks that could only belong to a werewolf. I imagine Arnbjorn went after him." Even though her voice was calm, Astrid could still hear the venom in her ex-husband's name.

"I have a task for you."

"What is it?"

"I want you to find that damned jester and cut him into as many pieces as you desire," Astrid said.

Alana nodded, her eyes molten pits of anger. "Don't worry. I'll search his room to see if he left any clues as to where he could've gone, and then I'll be sure he screams for his life while I rip him apart."

The blonde vampire seemed looser now, Astrid noticed. No longer did she carry herself with a sense of self-hatred. It was like she was a different woman now.

Despite the recent chaos that ensued, it was a nice change.

Astrid watched as Babette applied a medical salve to Veezara's side, and she stalked back to her chambers in preparation for the next part of the plan. Cicero's attempt on her life or not, they still had to work out the next phase of their plan to assassinate the Emperor.

Strangely, she felt pity for Cicero. His madness was his own undoing, and he had no idea that a vengeful war goddess was hunting him down with the intent of ripping him in pieces.

Alana returned with a journal in hand. "I found Cicero's journal. Looks like he's heading to the Dawnstar Sanctuary."

"The Sanctuary in Dawnstar? Hmm…if he's heading there, it stands to reason he's familiar with it. You'll be fighting him on his own ground. Be cautious," Astrid warned. "And take my horse, Shadowmere. You'll find him by the black pool outside."

"Got it." Alana nodded.

"One more thing, before you go."

"What?"

"Make sure the way you kill him is painful and slow."

A/N: And that's a wrap. Two updates in the same month? I swear, you aren't imagining shit XD. I'm trying to stay on schedule as much as possible to finish this quickly to free up more time.