Chapter Summary
The Blades Brotherhood have their first big contract to carry out, and Delphine's not the sort of person to just send one person out there with vague instructions, no. Aranea, Calixto and Sapphire set out to end Vittoria Vici's life in style. Meanwhile, Delphine's taking the others in search of Sky Haven Temple, but Esbern is not a stupid man and the strain of living a lie is starting to tell on them all...Chapter Notes
Should probably warn you about the smut in this one - bit of knifeplay and bloodplay involving Delphine and Cicero, and another threesome which came out of nowhere and begged me to be written in. Nothing too graphic, but it's there.Chapter 11: Bound Until Death
The newly formed Hjerim Brotherhood had spent the daylight hours sleeping and recovering from the long trek from Riften, and were now gathered in the downstairs dining room. Esbern had joined them, and although there was a certain tension in the air, nevertheless everyone seemed to be getting on well. Even Cicero was on his best behaviour, humming to himself and politely asking Esbern if he needed any more venison stew. He'd not mentioned stabbing once. Frankly, Delphine was starting to worry about him. Still, he seemed content enough, so she wasn't going to complain. Right now, he'd finished his own dinner and was sitting cross-legged on the bench wearing a shirt Calixto had lent him, calmly sewing the buttons back on to his own jester shirt. He glanced up at Delphine, caught her looking and smiled at her, a naughty little smile that held both memory and promise in it. Delphine remembered the way he'd looked as she'd ridden him to orgasm that morning, with him clinging to the headboard and moaning as he'd bucked under her, trying to thrust but not quite able to. She'd been pinning his shoulders down quite firmly, telling him that if he made a sound above a whisper, she'd be gagging him. He'd whimpered piteously at the mere idea, whispering that she was a cruel, evil woman. The smile on his face had said otherwise though, and when she'd finally let him come, rolling on to her back and inviting him to take her that way, he'd sunk into her, sighing in ecstasy and whispering his gratitude into her ear as he showered her face with kisses. He'd taken his sweet time though, stroking and touching her and whispering how much he loved finally being allowed to adore his Listener the way she deserved to be and how good she felt. Just hearing him say it had triggered another orgasm, and he'd had his not long after. Things had ended with the two of them collapsed in a sweaty, sticky tangle of limbs, curling up under the blankets as the incessant Windhelm chill started to bite.
Now here they all were, gathered at the main table, and Delphine couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so at home. She surveyed them all, her recruits, protegees... her family. And soon, soon she'd have a home for them all too.
Taking up a fork, she tapped it against her goblet, calling them all to attention. Eola stopped recounting her edited tale of how she'd won Azura's Star, and they all turned to face Delphine. Even Esbern looked attentive.
"Now that we're all done with dinner," she said, "it's time to talk business. Yes, we successfully managed to extract Esbern from the Thalmor's grasp, and I don't doubt that they will be thinking twice before coming after him or us in the near future. I am extremely proud of you all."
This was met by a raucous chorus of cheers and banging of the table. Delphine wondered if perhaps it had been wise to have quite so much mead served, but it wasn't like anyone was going anywhere tonight.
She raised her hands for silence, and the fuss died down.
"However, the fact remains that this house, no matter how well outfitted, and thank you Calixto for organising all this by the way, isn't going to be a permanent base for us. It's a big house but it's in the middle of a city and there'll be eyes on it. True, it's the city the Thalmor can move least obviously in, but if they can invade the Ratway, they can get here too. So we'll need to be on the move in the morning."
Pouting and moaning all round. Delphine rolled her eyes. Definitely too much mead on the table – well, not any more, that was precisely the problem.
"However, we have a possible solution. Esbern and I have been talking, and he thinks he knows somewhere that'll make a permanent home for us. It's safe, isolated, heavily fortified and best of all, it's been abandoned for years. So tomorrow, he and I are heading out there to check it out."
An excited "oooooh!" went round the table. Even Calixto looked impressed. Delphine glanced at Esbern, who was smiling indulgently at them all. Then she turned to Cicero, who was holding his needle mid-stitch and looking frankly miserable.
"Something the matter?" she asked.
"You're going there on your own?" Cicero asked. "With only Esbern? To some secret place where anything could be lying in wait? And what, pray, is poor Cicero meant to do in your absence? Stay here and fret? Worry and imagine all the possible things that might be trying to kill his sweet Delphine, hmm?"
"Cicero," said Delphine, placing a finger to his lips. "You're coming with us. Of course I'm not leaving you behind. There's something there that concerns you in particular that I think you need to see."
Next thing she knew, Cicero had placed his shirt to one side and thrown his arms around her.
"Ooh yes, Cicero and sweet Delphine, on the hunt with wise Esbern! On a quest to find our new Sanc- home! Home sweet home, no more will we roam, and Delphine's dear Cicero not left alone!"
"Yes, yes quite," said Delphine, ruffling his hair and trying to ignore the amused looks she was getting from everyone, including Esbern. "And as our potential new base is in the Reach, Eola will be coming too as she knows the country."
"Born and raised in a Forsworn camp, my friends," Eola laughed. "And now look at me, I'm sat in Ulfric Stormcloak's city drinking with Nords and Imperials and Namira help me, an Elf. Divines, if my mother saw me now, she'd disown me. And sacrifice me to the old gods, probably."
"Not if Cicero got to her first," the jester giggled, clinking his goblet against Eola's in a toast. "Cicero would send the old gods a little present, a little substitution of his dear sister for her dear mother."
"Not that dear," Eola grinned. "Last I heard, she was trying to become a Hagraven."
"A Hagraven?" Esbern stared at her, amazed. "My dear girl, you really did grow up with the Forsworn, didn't you?"
Eola nodded. "Yeah. Hated it, but it's where I learned my magic and blade skills. Got tired of Ma being all Forsworn this and take back the Reach that, and complaining I wasn't taking my devotion to the old gods seriously enough. Yeah right, like I'm throwing my life away for a lost cause in armour that barely keeps me covered. Lost two of my sisters that way. Ran away at 16 and never looked back."
"So no point getting you to negotiate with the Forsworn then if we meet any. Noted," said Delphine, although she'd not really expected that to ever happen.
"Forsworn don't negotiate," said Eola, confirming Delphine's thoughts. "Especially not when you've got a Nord with you. Sorry."
Delphine shrugged. "No matter. We'll cut our way through if we have to. Both of you wait upstairs in my room, I'll be up there shortly to give you further details. Esbern, could you go with them? I need to talk to the others. I've got business to discuss with them as well, and it's probably best if you don't know the details. It's a little high risk, if you get my meaning."
"And you don't want to risk me telling the Thalmor what it is if I ever get caught," Esbern nodded. "Good thinking, my dear. I'll be upstairs with the other two if you need me."
Delphine could only smile weakly as she watched Cicero take Esbern by the hand and lead her old mentor upstairs, Eola following. It was a good Blades policy, yes... but mostly she just couldn't face the inevitable disappointment if he knew the truth.
"So what've you got for us, Listener?" Aranea asked, reverting back to Delphine's title once Esbern was out of earshot. "I presume it's a contract, one you don't want Esbern knowing about."
"One I don't really want anyone knowing about," said Delphine, beckoning them all closer as she pulled a hand-drawn map of Solitude. "It's our first big contract, and it's going to be a difficult and dangerous one. I can't give you as much background detail as I'd like, not yet. But trust me, this one's important and it needs to go well. It's not your typical stabbing in their sleep, or throat-slitting in a dark alley. This one... well, this one's going to be public."
"Public," said Sapphire. "As in... middle of the street, broad daylight public."
Delphine nodded. "Yeah. It gets better. You've got to do it at a wedding reception."
"A wedding reception?" Calixto burst out laughing. "Good gods, Delphine, is there any way we could make ourselves less popular? Ruin the day by murdering a guest?" He caught the haunted look on Delphine's face. "Oh sweet Meridia. You want us to kill..."
"The bride, yes. Don't all look at me like that, we're the Dark Brotherhood! We kill innocent people in cold blood. Don't tell me you weren't completely aware of that when you signed up."
"Yes, but murdering someone at their wedding – that's harsh, even for the Brotherhood," said Aranea. "Somebody must hate her pretty badly. An ex-lover? Or maybe it's the groom who they want to hurt."
"Believe it or not, it's not actually personal," Delphine sighed. "I can't tell you any more, because if you do get caught, I can't have you being in a position to give the long game away. Let's just say it's kind of political and leave it at that, eh? So, your target. She's a noblewoman from Solitude, runs most of the East Empire Company out there. She's marrying the son of a prominent family of Stormcloak sympathisers, one Asgeir Snow-Shod. Her name's..."
"Vittoria Vici, yes I've heard of her," said Calixto, stunned. "Delphine, she's not just noble, she's the Emperor's cousin. Half of Cyrodiil's nobility are turning up! And you... someone... wants her dead? At her damn wedding?"
"While she's up on the balcony addressing the guests, yes," said Delphine, rubbing her forehead with a sigh. "I told you it was a big deal. There is a lot riding on this one, my friends. It needs to go flawlessly, and while I hope none of you get caught, it's a real possibility."
The merry mood of earlier had entirely dissipated. All three had sobered up, and their expressions ranged from nauseous to stunned to verging on hostile in Sapphire's case.
"So what, you're just sending us into a deathtrap?" she said, arms folded. "This some kind of hazing of the new kids while you take your favourites off on the safe mission?"
"I wouldn't call it safe, I have no idea what we'll find out in the Reach, and the Forsworn are everywhere," snapped Delphine. "But you're not guaranteed to end up dead or in prison either. Look, I scouted the area back when Cicero and Eola were breaking in to the Thalmor Embassy." Delphine noted with pleasure the stunned look on Sapphire's face at that. "See, they've been sent on dangerous missions too and survived. This time it's your turn. Here, this is the map. I've marked the Temple of Divines here, and this courtyard is where the reception will be. Now, Vittoria will be giving her speech from this balcony. Did any of you perhaps recover a set of Thalmor armour from the Flagon? You did, Sapphire? Excellent. What's that, Aranea, you have a set of Thalmor robes too? Even better. Take it all with you to Solitude, you'll need it. Now. Here's what you're going to do..."
Twenty four hours later, and the Brotherhood had dispersed. Calixto, Aranea and Sapphire were off on their way to Solitude, while Delphine had led the others back to Riverwood to spend the night. Cicero started to get anxious if he was away from the Night Mother for too long. The usual wild beasts aside, things had been quiet. Sure, there'd been those bandits at Valtheim Keep that had tried to charge a toll for them to pass, but running one of them through with her dai-katana before chasing down the rest with Cicero at her heels had soon taught them the error of their ways. Esbern had only been a little appalled at the enthusiasm with which Cicero had hunted down his prey, singing merrily as he went, but Delphine had hastened him out of the fort before he could see Eola going over the bodies as only she could.
"I still don't understand the hurry, Delphine," he'd protested as she led him away.
"Cicero's stripping the place of valuables, Eola's seeing to the bodies. Nothing to see, and Eola prefers privacy as she works," said Delphine, taking him by the arm and leading him out on to the road.
"Privacy? To do what?" Esbern asked, confused. Delphine thought fast.
"Religious rites. She's very dedicated that way, but doesn't like non-worshippers witnessing her."
"Really? She's paying respects rather than just looting them? Well, that's very noble of her. I shall have to ask her more about it later. I assume it's some holdover from her childhood with the Forsworn. Very interesting, I don't know much about the old gods. Not often one gets a chance to interview a native of the Reach about the old ways."
Delphine could only laugh nervously and hope Eola had sufficient wit to make something up and not start babbling on about Namira.
Cicero and Eola finally rejoined them, Eola wiping the last of the blood from her mouth and looking almost presentable, and Cicero kicking his heels and singing "and if the bandits charge a toll, why then indeed I'll make them fall!"
"He is rather... exuberant, isn't he?" Esbern asked, looking rather concerned.
"He's had a hard life," said Delphine, deciding that if she pretended everything was entirely normal, maybe Esbern's perceptions would shift to match the majority and he'd start to think the same. "It did affect him a little. But he's just won a fight and he's happy. Nothing to be concerned about. Now, shall we all get moving?"
Cicero and Eola enthusiastically took the lead, comparing kills and arguing about who had got the most. Delphine sauntered after them, Esbern at her side. The old scholar scratched his head, frowning. Something was most definitely off about this whole situation, and if he hadn't known better, he could swear Delphine had been lying to him. Still, it beat being holed up in the Ratway. Thinking nothing further of it, he followed them along the road to Whiterun.
Finally, they made it back to the Sleeping Giant, and Eola and Cicero were soon making themselves at home like they'd never been away. Eola settled herself at one of the tables, ordered some bread and a bottle of Honningbrew off Orgnar, and began making herself a Bosmer sandwich, while Cicero immediately dived into Delphine's bedroom to check on the Night Mother.
"So this is your inn," said Esbern, taking a seat and accepting the mead Delphine presented him with. "It's very nice. A welcome surprise after being on the road all day. I must say, I can't imagine you just quietly running this place all these years."
"After the war and the decade or so after it, this place was a welcome change," said Delphine. "Anything you want, it's on the house, just speak to Orgnar. Your room's on the left, Orgnar's around if you need anything and Eola's next door if there's trouble. Cicero and I will be across the inn in the other bedroom."
Esbern thanked her and settled down to the hot meal she'd provided him with. It was all rather cosy and domestic... or at least it was until the inn shook, a rain of dust fell from the ceiling and an all too familiar roar from outside indicated a dragon had landed on the roof.
Esbern was on his feet immediately, casting mage armour and looking for Delphine, who'd last been seen heading into her bedroom, presumably to get some time alone with Cicero. While Esbern wouldn't normally dream of interrupting their private time, this counted as an emergency. He ran across the inn, flinging the door open... only to find the room empty.
"Delphine?" he whispered, looking around, confused. "Where are you?"
"Don't worry about her," said Eola, appearing behind him so suddenly he felt his heart flutter in fright. "She'll be fine. Probably out there already fighting it and you just missed her leave."
Slowly, Esbern turned to face the young Reachwoman, who was smiling sweetly at him. He felt a little frisson run down his spine as he looked into her eyes.
"You shouldn't worry about her," Eola repeated, still smiling that strange smile. "You want to worry about that dragon. You should be out there fighting it. They could use your knowledge."
"I – of course they could," said Esbern, forcing a smile to his face and fighting down the cold sensation of something very wrong going on here. "I'll go out there and help immediately. You'll help too, of course?"
"Of course," said Eola, her voice sounding more normal. "Give me a second to get my things together." She stood to one side, waiting for Esbern to leave. Esbern smiled nervously, and headed out, hoping his discomfort wasn't too obvious. For he had studied the Daedra and their worshippers, and he recognised an attempt to use Namira's Whisper when he heard it – an ability only given to her priests and priestesses. It worked best near a shrine of Namira, but some servants of Namira could use it elsewhere to a certain extent too, especially if they'd engaged in Namira's rites in the last 24 hours. Feeling sick to his stomach, Esbern realised just what Eola had been doing with the bodies, why no less than three of Delphine's people, including Delphine herself, had warned him not to eat Eola's meat supplies, and that Delphine not only knew, she was tacitly condoning the practice.
Whatever she is running, it is not a Blades cell , the thought came unavoidably. What exactly she was running, he didn't even want to think. More importantly, there was a dragon to deal with. So first kill the dragon, and then... maybe it was time to start asking a few questions.
Not long after he stepped outside, the other three appeared, bursting out of the inn with weapons drawn and ready. Between them and the guards, it didn't take long for the dragon to succumb. Then Cicero stepped forward, watching it burn. Before everyone's amazed eyes, the dragon's soul rose up from its corpse and surrounded him as he stood there, looking utterly ridiculous in his jester's outfit and yet at the same time deadly serious. Cicero had one hand on his hip and the other holding his sword and he looked almost bored as the dragon soul sank into him. Sheathing his blade, he turned away, heading back to the inn without a word, eyes looking dark and almost inhuman.
"Cicero, are you alright?" Delphine asked, sounding concerned. Cicero nodded.
"I'm well. The cage holds it quite nicely now." He smiled at her, and Esbern could see nothing good in that smile, yet Delphine seemed not to notice. "Do not fear for your Cicero, my sweet. The man lives yet."
"Glad to hear it," Delphine said softly, stroking his cheek, predatory smile on her own lips, and that worried Esbern most of all. "I'll see you inside?"
Cicero nodded and stalked into the inn. Esbern hastily wiped the worry off his face as Delphine turned to him.
"You saw that, right? Saw him take..."
"Yes, yes, I saw it, quite extraordinary," said Esbern, and truth be told, he was impressed. It was just that there were some things in the world worse than dragons, and he wasn't entirely sure this new Dragonborn wasn't one of them. Leaving Delphine to check that the roof of her inn wasn't likely to collapse in the night, he headed inside.
The inn was deserted, most of its patrons apart from the comatose Embry having fled when the dragon landed on the roof, which suited Esbern just fine. Making straight for Delphine's room, he slipped inside and immediately noticed the wardrobe door left open, and light coming out of it. To his surprise, but not to any great shock, he saw a set of stairs leading down to a secret cellar, presumably Delphine's base of operations all these years and now probably in use as a lovenest for her and Cicero. His better judgement screamed against descending – Delphine had kept it secret for a reason, and clearly Eola had been attempting to warn him off investigating earlier. And yet he needed answers and something told him he'd find them here. Slowly, he made his way downstairs.
The room was a small stone chamber, well-lit and well-provisioned with an alchemy lab and supplies, several weapon racks, a training dummy, an arcane enchanter, a central table and chairs... and on the far side of the room, with several furniture items having been shoved aside to make room, was an ancient stone coffin. It was upright and open, and clearly contained the mummified ruins of a dead woman. At its feet, Cicero was kneeling, candles lit around the coffin, flowers lying at the woman's feet and various bottles of oil positioned around him.
Esbern stepped back, shock numbing his mind and slowing his reactions. One foot collided with the stairs and, horror of horrors, Cicero looked up, turned around and locked eyes with Esbern like some creature out of nightmare. A second passed, and then Cicero sprang to his feet, slamming the coffin shut, and drew his daggers, leaping on to the table that separated them and crouching there like some Daedric beast.
"You dare come down here uninvited?" Cicero shrieked. "You dare look upon her, you, an outsider, a stranger, a... guest?" He spat that last word out with all the righteous indignation of a host whose guest had unforgivably breached the laws of hospitality. Esbern, being a Nord, was all too aware of what usually happened to such guests.
"Cicero... my boy... please, you don't have to do this," Esbern whispered. "I don't mean you harm."
"Liar!" Cicero shouted, eyes flashing furiously and in that instant, Esbern had the feeling he was staring straight into Oblivion. "You would do harm to Mother, burn her with your mage fire. Well, Cicero will not have it, no! Cicero will protect Mother to the death! TO THE DEATH!" Cicero's teeth were bared in a rictus of rage, bearing no resemblance to the odd but kind man who'd been nothing but polite and friendly on first meeting Esbern. Now Cicero seemed more like the dragons he was meant to fight than anything else. Still, Esbern was a Blade to the last, and Blades did not beg.
"If you kill me, you will never know how to interpret Alduin's Wall," said Esbern, deciding to at least attempt to reason with the madman. "Not to mention I don't think Delphine would be pleased, do you? Not after going to all the trouble of rescuing me."
Cicero laughed at that, a mad cackle that sent shivers down Esbern's spine. "Oh, defiling Esbern should give thanks to Talos that Delphine has reserved that order for herself! Otherwise he would already be dead. "
Well, that was something to be thankful for, although Esbern didn't find it comforting that Delphine had had to specify no one was to kill him except on her orders.
"You had better find her then," said Esbern, trying to keep his voice steady. "If you can't kill me without her permission, and yet I must die for beholding the Night Mother – yes, Cicero, I have studied your order. If I must die, you had best find Delphine so she can approve it."
A flicker of something like sanity passed across Cicero's eyes, although he did not lower his knives.
"You are not afraid?" he asked. Esbern shook his head.
"No, my boy. I am an old man, and I've lived a long time, avoided death on many occasions, some too close for comfort. I'm already a fugitive. If I am to die, I would rather a quick death at the hands of a skilled professional such as yourself than a long and drawn out one at the Thalmor's hands."
That did make Cicero laugh, flashes of the fool resurfacing.
"Ooh, brave! Very brave. Cicero accepts the compliment, kind Esbern. However, Cicero cannot fetch Delphine without leaving, and he will not leave you alone with Mother. So what do we do, we two, me and you? How to call Delphine without causing a scene?"
"No need," Delphine's voice echoed down the stairs, and really Esbern had never been so relieved to hear it in his life. "I'm here. Cicero, put your weapons away. Esbern, hands by your side and step away from the coffin. Now."
There was no arguing with that voice. Esbern sank into the nearby chair, placing his hands on the table and wishing they'd stop shaking. Cicero had lowered his weapons a fraction.
"He saw the Night Mother," Cicero growled. "He, an outsider, laid his defiling eyes on our Mother. The penalty is death! Only give the order, sweet Listener, and Cicero shall send the treacherous mage to his grave-"
"That's enough," Delphine's voice cut through Cicero's ravings, and he fell silent.
"I told you before," said Delphine softly as she stepped into the room, approaching the table to lock eyes with Cicero, voice cold as midnight and as dark. "No one is to lay a finger on Esbern, not even you, unless I give that order. Now get out of here, go join your sister. I will deal with this."
Cicero still looked mutinous, but he'd lowered his weapons. "Cicero is Keeper, Mother's sworn protector, how can he abandon her to the defiler? How can he trust Esbern will not harm her?"
"Do you trust me?" Delphine asked with a smile. She'd not even spared Esbern a second glance, all her attention focused on Cicero. "Do you trust me to keep Mother safe?"
For a few heartstopping moments, Delphine and Cicero stared each other out in an unspoken battle of wills... and then Cicero sheathed his blades and hopped down from the table, shooting a furious glance at Esbern.
"Yes," he said curtly. "So Cicero shall obey his Listener and leave her to deal with the problem. But if any harm comes to Mother, any harm at all, Cicero shall not be held responsible for his actions!"
"I know. Thank you," said Delphine, her voice now gentle. She gave Cicero's shoulder a squeeze, and Cicero nodded in respect, saluting her with a fist to his chest. Barely looking at Esbern, he walked out briskly, head held high and the barest hint of a bounce in his step. Delphine waited until she heard the false panel slide back into place before letting out the breath she'd been holding.
"Esbern. My god, are you alright?" She reached out instinctively to him, and Esbern couldn't help but flinch from her touch. Taking the hint, and barely managing to conceal the crushed feelings in her own mind, Delphine sat down across from him, hands folded on the table.
"This... isn't how I'd have chosen for you to find out," she said, not daring to meet his eyes.
"How long?" Esbern asked. How long have you been the mother of monsters? The question hung between them, not needing to be voiced in its entirety for both to know what it meant.
"Not long," said Delphine. "Esbern, please believe me, I had nothing to do with the Dark Brotherhood until a month ago, when I met Cicero. He was transporting the Night Mother across Skyrim, and ran into a dragon that was flying around near Whiterun. When he killed it, he took its soul, and the guards who'd witnessed it knew from that he was Dragonborn. They took him to Whiterun and that's how I met him. Esbern, you have to believe me, I didn't intend for any of this to happen. I just saw a Dragonborn and couldn't walk away. That he's a Dark Brotherhood assassin – well, he's been that for years and that's never going to change. If joining the Brotherhood is the only way to reach him, then so be it."
"Delphine," said Esbern, his heart aching for the impossible situation she'd found herself in. "It doesn't have to be this way, we can get away from here, just you and me. Maybe after Alduin is dead, we can leave this Dragonborn to his own devices, reform the Blades perhaps. You don't have to be a part of this-"
"No," said Delphine, cutting him off. "No, Esbern. Whatever happens, I am not, repeat, not abandoning my family. Didn't you hear Cicero call me Listener? This is not just some role I'm playing to keep the Dragonborn on side. This is whoI am."
That was exactly what Esbern had been afraid of, for far more years than he could count. But he had to at least try and reach her.
"Delphine, the Blades are your family-" he began, but realised as he spoke that this had been the wrong thing to say. Delphine's eyes flashed in anger.
"The Blades are dead!" she snapped. "Because the Thalmor killed them! And in all these years, we've been hiding, running scared, each one alone, and me unable to reach out to any of them in case it got us both killed. The Thalmor call my very existence an affront to them, did you know that? Well, I'm done running. I'm done being cold and lonely, I'm done hiding from myself. I'm done just surviving for survival's sake. The Night Mother chose me, Esbern, me! She chose me to issue her orders, lead her children, restore her Family to its former glory, just as the gods led me to the first Dragonborn in centuries. So no, Esbern, I cannot just walk away from this. They might be murderous, insane killers, but you know what? They're my murderous, insane killers and I'm damn proud of all of them!" She finally met Esbern's eyes and he recognised that stubborn look all too well. He felt his spirits drop as he finally acknowledged that he'd never win this fight. She was lost, lost to Sithis and the Night Mother. Surprisingly, with this realisation he felt a weight slip off his shoulders, a strange calm descending as he finally surrendered to the inevitable.
"So where does this leave us?" he heard himself asking. "I'm not about to join the Dark Brotherhood, and yet you can hardly let me go. The Thalmor would find me eventually, and I don't suppose you want to risk the knowledge that one of their most wanted is now leading the Dark Brotherhood getting back to them. As I said to Cicero, I am an old man and do not fear dying... but I confess I do not wish to expire just yet. Nor, I suspect, do you want to give that order either, although I don't doubt Cicero wouldn't hesitate to carry it out. Also, if you wish to learn anything from Alduin's Wall, you need me alive. So. What do we do?"
Delphine folded her hands on the table, silent. At length, she looked up. Esbern took one look at the harrowed look in her eyes and felt rather sorry for her. It couldn't be easy, having all that responsibility on her shoulders.
"I am in your hands, my dear," said Esbern gently. "Whatever you decide, I won't think harshly of you. You never asked for any of this, I know. I can't approve of the Dark Brotherhood's work, but the way you're rising to the challenge does impress me."
"Don't," Delphine whispered, her voice ragged. "Don't say that. I'm a leader of assassins, for Talos' sake, don't go reminding me there's some decent human beings out there."
"I can see how that might be a problem," said Esbern calmly. "An occupational hazard, I would think."
"You have no idea," Delphine laughed, her features relaxing. "All right. This is how it's going to work. You're going to be an honorary Dark Brotherhood member. Our hostage, if you will. Permanent guest, if that's any better. You travel with us, you stay with us. We'll protect you from the Thalmor and anyone else with hostile intentions, we'll shelter and feed you. In return, you don't go running off or try to escape. You definitely stay well away from the Night Mother. Cicero is very protective of her and I can't guarantee your safety if you interfere with her. Unless I'm with you, you go nowhere near her, got that?"
"I understand," said Esbern. "Thank you, it is more than I had hoped for. I am an old man with not many years left to me. A quiet and comfortable environment with my books in which to see out my twilight years is all I really want out of life these days. If you can provide that, well. As long as you don't drag me into Brotherhood business, I will be quite content."
"I'll keep you well away from the contracts, I promise," said Delphine, smiling properly for the first time that night. "Talos, but it's a relief to finally just admit it. The strain was starting to tell on me."
"I can imagine," said Esbern dryly. "Tell me, that young Eola. Is she a follower of Namira by any chance? And those personal meat stores of hers that you've all been at pains to point out should never be eaten by anyone else, are they...?"
Delphine nodded, looking faintly revolted. "I'm afraid so. She's not going to give it up though, and she's one of the best we have. The Dark Brotherhood can't afford to be choosy. She's still better adjusted than Cicero."
That Esbern had no trouble agreeing with. Delphine got to her feet, holding out a hand to him.
"Come on. Let's go speak to the children."
Cicero and Eola were waiting for them upstairs. The door to the inn was wedged firmly shut, and Cicero was stretched out on Delphine's bed, head resting in Eola's lap. She was sitting on the pillow, idly stroking his hair. Both looked pensive, and as soon as Delphine walked in, Cicero sat bolt upright, snatching up his hat and pulling it on. His eyes darkened as soon as he saw Esbern.
"The defiler lives," he snarled.
"Yes he does," said Delphine. "We've talked and we've come to an arrangement."
"An arrangement?" Cicero hissed. "He saw Mother. There can be no arrangement! Unless... unless my Listener is planning to delay the sentence until we get out into the country. Open road, no witnesses, leave the body for the beasts. Clever!" Cicero clapped his hands at the ingenuity of the plan. At least he did until Delphine turned her full fury on him.
"Cicero!" she snapped at him. "Esbern is not going to die! Not by my hand... or by yours."
"What?" Cicero cried. "Listener, with all due respect, he is not one of us. How can you suffer him to live now?"
Delphine stepped smartly across the room and laid hands on his shirt, hauling him to his feet and actually lifting him off the ground a little. "Who is Listener here, you or me?" she said softly, in a voice somehow more terrifying than if she'd shouted. "Who hears the Night Mother's voice, Cicero?"
"You – you do, Listener," Cicero whispered, cowed into submission. "Listener, please, Cicero has only just mended this shirt..."
"You will have considerably more than your shirt to worry about if you ever dare cross me in this, Cicero," said Delphine, still with that quiet, dangerous tone to her voice. "This agreement was made in the Night Mother's very presence, and given that I could apparently hear her from out in the street when the need arose, I think she'd have said something if any of it had displeased her, don't you think? Now, are you going to listen to the terms or not?"
"Cicero will listen," Cicero gasped. "If Listener could please put me down? Cicero is not fond of heights..."
"You're barely an inch off the ground," said Delphine, letting him go. Cicero dropped to the floor and huddled up there, kneeling at her feet and staring up at her, caught somewhere between terror and adoration. Satisfied that he at least would be no further trouble, she turned to Eola. "What about you, have you got any objections?"
Eola had not got where she was in life by being an idiot. "Oh no, Listener, whatever you say. You're the boss!"
"Good," said Delphine, relaxing. "All right, this is what we've decided. I've told him the truth about who we are, what we do. I've not told him about any of our contracts – we both agreed it would be best if he knew as little about that side of the business as possible. So we don't discuss contracts in progress in front of him. But he has agreed to help us investigate dragons."
"Go on," said Eola, clearly sensing there was more to this. "So far, this sounds like nothing's changed, but..."
Delphine glanced at Esbern, who was sitting in her chair, seemingly calm, but who knew what was actually going through his head. He'd just bartered away his freedom to the Dark Brotherhood after all.
"Esbern's ours now. We shelter him, feed him, protect him... but he's also not going anywhere. I've claimed him as a hostage of the Brotherhood, which means he'll be spending his remaining years under our watchful eyes. No fleeing, no running away. When we've claimed Sky Haven Temple, it will be his permanent home. We'll treat him well, we won't be chaining him or locking him up – but he's not a free man any more."
Eola and Cicero both looked stunned at this, Eola watching Esbern with a great deal of sympathy and Cicero... well, if she hadn't known better, she might almost have said he was jealous, but surely not...
"Do not feel sorry for me," said Esbern gently. "I have had a long and eventful life, and most of it has been spent on the run from the Thalmor. To be able to spend my remaining years in relative safety and security – it is a better end than I had expected."
"Cicero is not sorry for Esbern!" Cicero burst out. "To be enslaved and held hostage by the Listener, living or dying at her whim... the rest of us should be so lucky!"
Eola dissolved into hysterical giggles, while Esbern just looked a little bemused. Delphine could feel herself blushing.
"What are you talking about, Cicero?" she sighed, nudging him with her foot. "You're already mine!" Cicero just giggled, going a little pink himself.
"Cicero is his beloved's Listener's, to do with as she pleases," he giggled. "Cicero thinks the defiler Esbern is getting off lightly, far too lightly. But he will not argue. He will bow to his Listener's will in this."
"Good," said Delphine, feeling herself finally relax properly. It wasn't what she'd wanted, but all told, things could have gone worse. "Eola, why don't you take Esbern back to his room? It's late and we're all tired. Time we all turned in."
Eola got up and offered Esbern her arm. "Come on, old man. Let's get you to bed."
Normally Esbern might have bridled at being called old, but things had progressed to the stage where he no longer cared. Bidding a polite goodnight to Delphine and Cicero, he let Eola lead him out.
The inn was empty, Orgnar still tidying up the roof and everyone else having decided that, post-dragon attack, they no longer felt quite like stopping in for a drink that evening. Eola showed Esbern into his room, still the epitome of courtesy. Esbern eyed her suspiciously.
"You're being surprisingly accepting of this whole arrangement. Should I be worried? I mean, you might have to kill me one day."
"I doubt it'll be me, if that day ever comes," said Eola. "In the mean time, until and unless Delphine orders otherwise, you're ours. And we look after our own. Why make life unpleasant in the interim by being rude or cruel?"
Why indeed. As Esbern sank into the bed, he could only be grateful that at least he'd fallen in with well-mannered monsters.
Delphine sat in front of the Night Mother, blanket wrapped around her to keep the chill out. Behind her, Cicero lay stretched out on the table, wrapped in a nest of blankets, freshly covered in marks from their latest bout of lovemaking, if one could call it that. They'd ended up on the table downstairs, Delphine pinning him down and alternately cutting and healing as he'd howled beneath her in a frenzy. It was a good thing she'd lashed him to the table legs with leather strips really – as it is, he'd have marks around his wrists and ankles for days. He didn't seem to mind or even notice – indeed, he'd been far feistier than normal. Whether it was the after-effects of the attempted challenge and having to have rank pulled on him, or the dragon soul still rattling around in his brain, or both, he'd seemed to want – crave – harsh treatment, to push back, demand more, test the boundaries just to make sure they held. When she'd finally let him go, he'd sulked that the healing magic hadn't left him with any marks. She'd turned him onto his front and lashed him with leather until he had more than enough marks to keep him happy. Afterwards he'd collapsed on the table, curled up on the blanket she'd placed under him, hazy smile on his face, and thanked her. When she'd asked what for, he'd just said, "For your kindness and your cruelty."
"I'm not entirely sure I can tell the difference any more," she said, eyeing the newly formed welts all over his backside, thighs and shoulders. Cicero had just chuckled to himself.
"Cicero does not care. Cicero loves them both." He'd then yawned sleepily, seemingly unaware he'd said anything terribly significant, and closed his eyes. Delphine had retrieved a pillow for his head and tucked a blanket around him, then stepped back to watch him, feeling simultaneously motherly, aroused and just plain terrified. Preferring not to think about what she'd do if – no, when – he said he actually loved her, she left him to doze and settled herself in front of the Night Mother.
"Well, Mother, I hope tonight meets with your approval," she sighed. "I don't know what alternatives I've got if it doesn't." She remembered the chill that had run down her spine as the Night Mother's voice had echoed in her head while she'd been surveying the inn roof. "Listener! Outsider, in my Sanctuary. Swiftly now, come to me if you do not want blood..." It had been a bit of a shock to realise that the Night Mother's range extended that far, but not as big a shock as realising who the outsider must be. She'd never moved so fast in all her life. Even now, she still wasn't sure she'd done the right thing, but no one had died at least. She'd just have to live with the guilt – not like she could go back on things now. Releasing Esbern would also mean removing the protection of the Brotherhood – if the Thalmor didn't find him, Cicero wouldn't hesitate to hunt him down.
"You guess truly," the Night Mother rasped, speaking again for the first time since her earlier warning. "Do not waste time on regret, you have done the only thing you could have done without bloodshed. You did well, Listener. My Keeper is very good at his job – a little too good, and he has the fire of a Dragon in his blood besides. Few could have restrained or controlled him tonight, but you managed it."
In more ways than one , Delphine thought and instantly regretted it as the Night Mother laughed.
"Yes, you did that too, very well, I might add. Oh, don't be embarrassed, I've been watching my children for many years now, and I've seen what they get up to. Certainly I can see with my Listener's eyes if I wish. It is good to finally see my Keeper happy at last. He's not a man intended for being on his own, without guidance, without a strong hand to keep him steady. You are good for him... as he is good for you."
"I'll be sure to tell him," Delphine promised, glancing up at the mass of blood-red hair that was all she could presently see of Cicero. "He'll like knowing we've got your blessing."
"See that you do, see that you also tell him your hostage arrangement has my approval. I would hate for there to be any... accidents."
Delphine nodded. While she didn't think Cicero would dare disobey her, the Unholy Matron's backing couldn't hurt.
"Is there anything else for tonight?" Delphine asked, thinking it was probably time to wake Cicero up and get him upstairs.
"Only one thing. Another child has called to their Mother tonight. Fortunate it is that you are already heading that way. Go to the Forsworn camp at Karthspire and speak to their Matriarch, the Hagraven Mireen. She has performed the Sacrament and requires our aid."
"A Hagraven? Forsworn?" Delphine could barely believe it. "They want to speak to us?
"Why not? Sithis is the oldest of the old gods, the oldest of all the gods. The Hags call on him too, but not normally on me. Fear not, Listener. Your young Eola will be of assistance here. She won't like it, to be sure... but she will prove invaluable."
"I bet she won't," Delphine sighed, getting to her feet. But there was no help for it. Bidding the Night Mother good night, she closed the coffin and nudged Cicero awake, helping him up the stairs to where their double bedroll awaited. This assignment didn't bode well.
Aranea stood by the gateway, arms folded and trying to look as haughty and unapproachable as possible, glaring at everybody in sight. It seemed to be working – so far everyone had left her well alone. Whether it was her stance or the Thalmor wizard robes, she had no idea and frankly didn't care. People had taken one look at the outfit and hastened past. No one had even noticed she was a Dunmer, not an Altmer. No one except old Noster the beggar.
"I didn't know they let grey-skins into the Thalmor these days," he'd asked, frowning.
"The Thalmor take any Mer in sympathy with their ideals," said Aranea, doing her best to sound as snotty as possible. "Including Dunmer. Now move along, human."
Noster had moved away, muttering that he had better things to do than talk to stuck-up Thalmor anyway. Aranea breathed a silent sigh of relief. Across the courtyard, Calixto was mingling with the crowd, charming and flirting with the women, complimenting the men while simultaneously managing to leave everyone barely remembering anything about him. Good trick that, Aranea would have to learn it some day. Not least because Sapphire was taking full advantage of the distraction to lift valuables from all and sundry. Aranea guessed that Sapphire would probably make more from stolen goods than she would from the actual assassination.
Finally, the happy couple left their thrones and slipped away, disappearing up the stairs that led to the balcony. Sapphire, who had been covertly keeping watch on them all afternoon, slipped away, nudging Calixto as she did so. Calixto didn't react, but about twenty seconds later he too had extracted himself from his current conversation and slipped after her.
Vittoria began to give her address, some meaningless babble about unity and how politics could be put aside for one day, Aranea wasn't really listening. What she was listening for was Sapphire's voice, and she soon heard it, raised in indignant protest as the Penitus Oculatus guard by the entrance the bride had just passed through spun round, sword in one hand and Sapphire's hand, which he'd just found in his pocket, in the other. Sure enough, city guards were soon descending on her, her pockets were being turned out and valuables from half the crowd were being examined. Sapphire's protests about having been set up nearly drowned out Vittoria, but it had the desired effect of drawing guard attention away from the door to the balcony that Calixto had just slipped unobtrusively into. Aranea held her breath and moved slowly to the middle of the gateway, ostensibly to hear Vittoria better but also conveniently blocking anyone in the courtyard from trying to leave it. Not long now. Surely not. Just a few seconds more...
The door behind the bride opened and sunlight flashed on gold Thalmor armour. Calixto was a quick changer, Aranea gave him that. Quick at other things too. Before Asgeir could react or even fully realise he was there, Calixto had darted forward, drawn an Elven dagger neatly across Vittoria's throat, dropped it and her to the floor and fled out of the back door.
Chaos erupted as screaming broke out and weapons were drawn. Sapphire found herself only with two guards to deal with instead of several guards and an agent and wasted no time lifting their swords from their sheaths and gutting them both in one practiced motion. Aranea cast a rune to cut off the courtyard with one hand and turned lightning magic on the Penitus Oculatus agent with the other. He staggered back and Aranea cast her mage armour and summoned a Frost Atronach to distract the guards. Then Calixto emerged, sword in hand, and struck down the agent before he could recover. Sapphire had snatched her stolen goods back, taken down a couple more guards and was already sprinting for the side exit out of Solitude. Knocking back her magicka restoration potions, Aranea followed, blasting magic at every guard in sight. Behind her the rune exploded, causing yet more screaming. Calixto was by her side, head down to obscure his human features and sword out to discourage questions. Behind the Hall of the Dead they ran, towards the market, and then through the gate that led to the city's side entrance near the docks. Totally unguarded, as Delphine had promised, and leading straight out onto the inlet. Sapphire was already swimming for it.
"You can swim, I trust?" Calixto murmured in her ear. Aranea nodded and followed him into Solitude Inlet. The water was bitterly cold, but the fear of pursuit tended to spur one on. Adrenaline coursing through her veins, Aranea struck for the shore, Calixto behind her. The heavy robes were slowing her down and Aranea finally shrugged them off, leaving just a woollen vest and her trousers on. That sped things up and eventually she crawled out on to the far shore, in Hjaalmarch and out of the Haafingar guards' reach. Shivering, she collapsed on the beach. Calixto emerged behind her and flung himself down at her side.
"Divines, we did it," he gasped. "Holy Sithis, we just killed a woman. In front of the entire city!" He burst out laughing, unable to contain the euphoria.
"You did the actual killing," Aranea pointed out, hauling herself upright with an effort.
"Oh, and that rune of yours didn't take a few people out?" Calixto responded, eyebrow raised. He finally got a proper look at her, soaked to the skin and unusually bare-headed for once. "Sweet Mara, you're... you look... cold," he finished, although Aranea was fairly certain that hadn't been what he'd been thinking. He stripped out of the Thalmor armour, casting it to one side and leaving him in his more usual tunic and trousers, surprisingly still dry.
"Thalmor armour's that waterproof?" Aranea asked.
"Apparently," said Calixto. "It really is quite incredible stuff, you know. I may keep it."
"If Delphine ever lets you wear it again," said Aranea, rubbing her arms in an attempt to get warm. Before she knew it, Calixto was removing his tunic as well. "Azura's mercy, man, what are you doing?"
"I can survive without it for a bit," said Calixto. "You won't, you're wet and you're clearly freezing."
"Yes," said Aranea, rolling her eyes. "But you're forgetting one thing. I'm a damn Dunmer." One click of her fingers and the flames of Ancestor's Wrath flickered into life, drying her off and warming her up. It wouldn't last for long but it would get her dry and that was the main thing. Calixto laughed and pulled his tunic back on. Aranea was surprised at the little flash of disappointment inside her as he did so. She'd never really gone for human men before. Human women, yes, but not the men, she'd always preferred her fellow mer. Still, for a man in his fifties, middle-aged by human standards but nothing for an Elf, he wasn't looking too bad.
"So where is Sapphire anyway?" Aranea asked, luxuriating in the warmth. "She wasn't that far ahead of us. Don't tell me she's halfway to Riften already."
"Relax, sibs, I'm over here," Sapphire drawled. "While you two were lazing about, I was retrieving the stash of goods and clothes we left out here. Here. Spare weapons. Spare robes for you, Aranea."
Aranea took them a little gingerly. They'd been cleaned since Cicero and Delphine had liberated them from their previous owner, but the green skull on the front clearly proclaimed they'd once been a necromancer's. Still, needs must.
"A bit of food," Sapphire continued, "roast rabbit, grilled chicken, a few leeks and carrots, bit of bread, and oh, what's this? Could this be... two bottles of Black-Briar Reserve from Mercer Frey's personal store? Why yes it is! Fancy a drink, my friends?" She produced three goblets from her pack and poured out drinks, passing them round.
"Sapphire, you're a bloody marvel," said Calixto, practically drooling at the sight of the clear mead. "My girl, you may consider yourself a dear friend of mine for life. I've been trying to get hold of this stuff for years."
Aranea had to agree, the mead tasted divine. "A toast," she suggested, raising her goblet.
"To what?" Calixto asked.
"To a mission accomplished," said Sapphire.
"To Sithis and the Night Mother," said Calixto, the mead already going to his head. "And to our brilliant and talented Listener for planning all this."
"To life and death," said Aranea. "To bringing the one and still being the other. To us, brother and sister mine."
"To us!" Calixto and Sapphire laughed, clinking their glasses against hers. They drank, and it was the first of many shared that night.
Aranea woke up to several things: a splitting hangover, the realisation that she was naked and in a bedroll, but with little memory of having got there, and that she was firmly sandwiched in between the other two, head resting against Calixto's chest, Sapphire pressed against her back and both of them with their arms around her.
What in the name of Nerevar... Slowly, the memory started to come back, of the after-effects of Ancestor's Wrath mixing with strong mead, of feeling far too warm and too drunk to care and shedding layers of clothes until she was lying back on the bedroll in her underwear, heedless of the other two staring at her.
"I'm hallucinating," Calixto had said. "Clearly it's the mead, it's making me see gorgeous Dunmer women disrobing themselves in front of me."
"I'm drinking more of it then," said Sapphire, taking a swig from one of the bottles.
Aranea had just closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth both inside and out. They'd got a fire going, and Aranea was lying nearby, trying to expose as much of herself to it as possible.
"Aren't you warm too? Don't you want to get rid of all those layers?" she'd purred. Sapphire had gone very still at the mere idea, glancing at Calixto nervously.
"Let's say neither of us do," said Calixto, having been appraised some time before of Sapphire's preferences. "I'm not a fan of cold Northern winters."
"Yeah, and I moved to the Rift for a reason," said Sapphire. "Got tired of risking frostbite and hypothermia every day – oh!" She put her hand to her mouth, horrified. "Cal! She's got hypothermia! This is one of the signs. Paradixi- paradaki- taking your clothes off even though you're freezing to death. We need to warm her up, quick!" She'd wrapped herself around Aranea and gasped as her arms met the Dunmer's skin.
"Ohhh..." she'd sighed. "Oh, you're not cold at all. You're really warm! Cal, feel this, would you? She's toasty!"
"I'm a Dunmer," Aranea said, wondering vaguely why humans were always so surprised at the species differences between them and the Mer. "We have higher core body temperature than you. Especially after using Ancestor's Wrath. Or drinking alcohol. Or both." She giggled as Calixto's hands slid around her. "Ooh, you two feel cold."
"Would you like us to stop?" Calixto murmured in her ear, spooning around her. "We can if you want."
"Except you're pretty. And you're hot. Literally. Really hot," said Sapphire, sliding nimble fingers up Aranea's thighs. Aranea couldn't stop herself moaning at the sensation of cold fingers on her skin.
"Is that a yes? Should we continue?" Calixto had murmured in her ear.
"Yes," she'd gasped. "Oh yes." So they'd continued, both of them contriving to remain fully clothed throughout while she'd been naked within seconds. She only had vague memories of what had happened after that, but she had the feeling it had ended with Calixto fucking her mouth while Sapphire had what had felt like her entire hand in her pussy. Dammit. An uninhibited threesome that she could barely remember and now not only an uncomfortable morning-after but a hangover from the fires of Oblivion itself. Sanguine's balls, this was not how she'd wanted things to end up. Her only hope was that neither of them remembered anything either.
"Hey, 'Nea, you up?" Sapphire asked wearily. "Don't suppose you know any hangover cure spells?"
"No," Aranea scowled, "Or I would be using one right about now. But if you have a Cure Poison potion, that would help."
"Dragon's Tongue tea," Calixto murmured. "That's just the ticket after big nights out. Gods, but I'm not as young as I used to be." He opened his eyes and glanced at Aranea and all hopes that he might have conveniently forgotten about the night before faded as he smiled at her.
"Hello there, dear. How are you feeling?"
"Hungover, mortified and embarrassed. I think I would quite like to be dressed and on the road. Without you two looking at me. If that's not too much to ask."
Calixto's face fell, but he did the gentlemanly thing and looked away while Aranea reached for her clothes and dressed, before knocking back three healing potions and a poison cure and walking away to get some badly-needed space.
Sapphire crawled out of her own bedroll, gathered the healing potions Aranea hadn't consumed and came to sit next to Calixto, passing them over without a word.
"We didn't force her, did we?" Sapphire asked, feeling guilty. "She was a totally willing participant in all that, right?"
"She was," Calixto nodded. "I rather think that may have been the problem."
"Oh." Sapphire digested this for a few seconds. "Should we go after her?"
"No, let her be," Calixto sighed. "She'll be back soon enough. When she does, I suggest we all act as if last night never happened. Easier on her that way."
Sapphire pouted but couldn't really disagree. "Shame that. She's one hot dark elf."
"Tell me something I don't know," Calixto sighed, getting up and seeking out breakfast. Of course, that's when the dragon flew overhead, circled once and crashed opposite them. Sapphire and Calixto stared at the dragon for the briefest of seconds before survival instincts kicked in and both of them flung themselves out of the way before the thing breathed fire at them.
One positive side effect of having a hundred ton fire-breathing lizard land in the middle of the camp, it did concentrate the mind wonderfully. Calixto reached for his sword and bow, while Sapphire had already retrieved hers and was frantically hitting the dragon before it could take off. Calixto managed to get in a couple of shots before the thing lashed out at Sapphire, sending her flying backwards in a spray of blood. Then it turned to him.
We who are about to die salute you, the old call of Arena combatants to the Emperor echoed through his mind. The irony of having fled Solitude only to be eaten by a dragon who neither knew nor cared about his crimes did not escape him. There was a certain justice at least.
Or at least there was until the dragon was struck by a barrage of fire from its other side and promptly took to the air. There, with a flame Atronach at her side, and lightning blazing from her fingers, was Aranea, resplendent in her necromancer robes and flame-red hair on show for all to see. He'd never been so pleased to see her in his life, and that was counting the previous night. The dragon howled in wrath and began circling, and while the Atronach kept firing fire at it, Aranea ran over to Sapphire and began casting healing magic on her.
Calixto wanted to drop everything and run to them both, but the dragon wasn't going anywhere. He reached for the Elven armour instead and pulled it on, having just finished the last buckles when the dragon came for another fly-past.
Sapphire staggered to her feet, if not fully healed then a lot healthier than she had been, and began shooting arrows at it. Aranea was raiding the potions supply and downing magicka restorants before recasting her mage armour and sending a few lightning bolts the dragon's way. The beast crashed into the campfire, howling as it left a trench about ten metres long in the ground. Calixto was determined not to let it get away this time, and Sapphire had had the same idea. Attacking from opposite sides, they hit it repeatedly, swords hacking into it while Aranea's magic seared into its flesh. After a few minutes of that, the dragon finally succumbed, breathing its last. As it burned, all three of them watched without a word.
"Are you two alright?" Aranea asked finally, still not looking at either of them.
"Thanks to you," said Sapphire. "I think you saved both our lives there."
"We're both astoundingly grateful," said Calixto, shuffling his feet and looking at the ground. "And, er, we both still think astonishingly highly of you and hold you in the highest amount of respect and esteem."
"But if you'd rather forget last night ever happened, we can do that too," Sapphire added hastily. "Honestly. Least we can do. We'll never mention anything about it again. We're all friends, right?" She looked up hopefully and saw to her surprise that Aranea was actually smiling. The Dunmer stepped forward and kissed Sapphire on the cheek, before turning and doing the same with a stunned Calixto.
"We are," said Aranea. "Now come on, let's see what's actually salvageable from this mess and then hit the road. Windhelm's a long way and we can't get the carriage back from Solitude after all." She turned away and began to pick through the detritus of their camp, collecting what was still intact and throwing away what wasn't.
Calixto sidled over to Sapphire. "Are we forgiven, do you think?"
"I think so, but it's difficult to tell with her. She's not terribly expressive sober."
"Do you think we're likely to get a repeat performance?" Calixto asked, hope not entirely dead. Sapphire shrugged.
"I don't know. Maybe. Eventually. When she's had time to think about it. Best off letting her be, I think. Leave it up to her to decide."
"I suppose I can do that," said Calixto, although he was still watching Aranea rather wistfully. "A man can hope."
"With you all the way there, bro," Sapphire sighed. Before Aranea could look up and notice that neither of them were doing any work, Sapphire and Calixto set to gathering up their things. This still had the potential to turn into a mess of Daedric proportions... but it also held a great deal of promise.
Chapter End Notes
Next week's update is one I nearly skipped over, but then decided to include anyway because it had potential, and I'm SO GLAD I DID. It was fun to write, very funny, has an awful lot of Eola backstory which just came to me as I wrote, and the after-effects are proving most helpful in later chapters too. It's the No One Escapes Cidhna Mine chapter, aka Cicero Does Cidhna (not like that, you pervs). I feel a tad guilty about Esbern, but no one got stabbed, disfigured or maimed, so that's something, right?
