The Night Mother's chambers were cold, colder than the rest of the sanctuary. At least, Silvanus thought so. He didn't know if it was just his imagination, as the room did have a chilly atmosphere, but he wasn't sure if he liked it. The Breton liked the dark, but coldness really got to him. As he was not a Nord, although being raised in Skyrim, his natural body temperature was adjusted to the mild High Rock weather. He'd never visited his homeland, but had always wanted to. However, as he entered the freezing room, he heartily wished he did have the robust nature of the hardy Skyrim people. Scarlett apparently hadn't noticed; her face was excited. She was the only person in Tamriel who would be excited about the prospect of talking to a corpse (as Cicero now WAS a corpse) after being raped by a God/the Void. If Silvanus was her, he thought, he would be angry, and would feel violated. She'd apparently forgotten about the fact she was now growing four dread children in her childish womb... By the Gods, it was a horrible thought. How twisted was Sithis to consider doing that to a child? Silvanus was evil, immoral, arrogant... But he had never considered rape. It would make him feel too much like his father. It disgusted him. His father had dabbled in that sort of thing, and if Silvanus wanted to be anything, it wasn't his father.
"Pol- Silvanus?" he turned to face her. She had a lockpick in hand, and was staring at him. Their eyes met, and he nodded, slowly. Scarlett smiled, and went to the lock, and shoved the pick into it. "You should've taken the key off Cicero when you killed him. It would have made things a lot easier." she struggled for a few seconds with the lock, then with a satisfying click, she leaned back triumphant. Turning her head around so fast that her hair swished, Silvanus exchanged an excited grin with her. Taking her position as Speaker in her stride, she hooked her fingers carefully around the door of the coffin, and wedged her hands in between. She turned around again. "Ready?"
"Ready. This is the point of no return... Are you ready?"
"Yes." the child turned around, and pulled, hard. The Breton could tell that it was a strain on her young arms, but didn't move forward to help. It felt almost like a ritual, and, in his heart of hearts, he knew this ritual had been performed many times before by their ancestors: the Speaker opening the Night Mother's coffin so that the Listener and the Night Mother could talk... It was an eerie thought. But an interesting one.
With one last heave, Scarlett managed to seperate the two sides, and pushed them apart, staring almost hungrily at the contents of the coffin. Silvanus looked too, eager to see the body, eager to see what now, he supposed, was the future of the Dark Brotherhood, whether he liked it or not. He shut his eyes for a moment, trying to take it all in, as he heard Scarlett chuckle darkly. Opening his eyes, he saw the familiar corpse, tied to the coffin to keep it in a standing position, although it's rotten head was slumped slightly. She was almost perfectly preserved, in the way of skin and limbs, but her eyes, completely hollow, make him feel a little sick to his stomach. Her arms were holding out to him, the Listener, as he stared, almost hypnotised, into her eye sockets. He heard a delighted giggle from his Speaker, and turned to look at her, face blank. Then, he felt a grin break across his face. "Now this... this is strange."
"It is, isn't it?" her voice was calm, and was becoming more like her mother's by the day. "I stand by my mother till the end, but... Now this is intriguing. I think even ma would find this... magical."
He laughed at her choice of words, and she grinned ruefully too, running her hands through her hair. Then, shaking it back, she looked at him expectantly. "Go on then." she gestured limply at the coffin. The room was silent. Silvanus could feel his heart beating hard against his ribcage, and, without looking at the child again, walked forwards slowly, towards the coffin. The Night Mother's arms were holding out to him, like a mother's to a child, and, hesitantly, he embraced the Night Mother. Stepping into the coffin, he wound his arms awkwardly around the corpse, and nestled his head into her neck. Oddly, he felt comforted in the odd clutches of the Night Mother... His own mother had never held him much. He'd always been relatively... unhuggable. But now, he didn't feel like that.
Silvanus felt a wave of happiness fly through him, through his bones, to his very soul. Clinging onto the corpse, he laughed wildly as he felt his heart beating faster and faster, tears of joy running down his cheeks. He cried out in happiness, and heard Scarlett hissing in shock behind him, as he buried his face into the Night Mother's shoulder... He felt like a child again, he was not mad, this was a true feeling! "Mother, sweet mother..." he whispered, shaking his head. Was he mad? No. This... this was something different. This was what being Listener was all about, just this feeling... "Oh Mother!" "My child, my poor, poor child... Embrace your mother." he embraced her harder, arms twisting tight around the corpse. He heard a chuckle in his mind, and drew away, feeling increasingly uncomfortable. The feeling of joy had left him when the Night Mother's voice had entered his mind. The youth pulled away from the body, and gazed up at it in awe. "Is she talking? Oh Gods, Silvanus, can you hear her?" he blotted out Scarlett's voice, blocked out her small hand on his arm, he couldn't listen! He was listening to the Night Mother. He shook her off gently, and placed both hands on his forehead, trying to hear her voice more clearly. "Amaund Motierre has not given up hope, Silvanus... Go and find him. He is in Volunruud still... Impatient, angry even... But there. Go to him. Accept his contract, and return to Scarlett. She will know what to do. Go now." Silence. Then, suddenly, he heard unearthly screams in his head, he covered his ears, he didn't want to listen to them! Louder and louder, building up to a crescendo, he cried out in agony as his head was filled with screams from the void... Then, once again, silence. Pure, perfect silence. He sank to his knees, relief filling him, as he, breathing hard, lay his head on the floor and moaned, tears of pain filling his eyes. He felt Scarlett's gentle touch on his back, and looked up to see her smiling sympathetically down at him.
"It hurts, doesn't it? Talking to them... It hurt me, too. You didn't pass out though." she held out her hand, and he took it gratefully, as she pulled him to his feet. They looked at each other for a second, and then they embraced. Silvanus had never hugged, nor expected to hug Scarlett: he'd only ever seen her embrace Astrid, and she was her mother. But now, holding the child to him, he felt more like her brother than ever. He was not in love with her, like he was with Astrid, but he loved her as family. As much as he loved Juliana, even. He kissed her hair, and pulled away to hold her at arms length. She smiled at him sheepishly, then laughed. "Come on, lap-bat. What did she say?"
"I am to go to Volunruud and find a man named Amaund Motierre. I was meant to find him when I first heard her, but he is still there apparently." he smiled. "He must really want someone dead. He will have a contract for me." The look on her face registered disappointment, as she narrowed her eyes up at him. Her lip curved downwards into a grimace, as she hunched her shoulders slightly in thought. Then, looking back up at him, she shrugged. "I have no idea who or where it is. Mother might though. But Motierre... Sounds Breton."
"Mmm." seeing the expectant look on her young face, he raised his eyebrows. "What?"
"Well..." she coloured slightly, and let her hair hang over her face in an attempt to hide her obvious blush. She spoke quickly, like a child who knew they had the wrong answer in a test, and had to admit it in front of a crowd: "Well, you're a Breton, so wouldn't you know? I mean, I know some names of ancient Nord clans..." she broke off, at the amused look in his face. "You are so prejudiced it's hilarious." they both laughed; Silvanus had said it more admiringly than insultingly. "But, sometimes, I like that in a person. So Astrid might know? I'll go ask her..."
"Maybe I should, actually." she gave him a prim look. "If you need to go in a hurry, it'd be best if I went to talk to her. Somehow, I think six hours of sex would slow us down." it was his turn to colour, and she laughed, shaking her head. "By Sithis, you'd think I was the mother..." then, she went pale, and put her hands on her stomach, where her womb would be. The laughter was gone from her face, and she winced slightly. Silvanus, alarmed, put a hand on her shoulder, but she shrugged it off, shaking her head again. Then, she looked up at him with wide, worried eyes. "I am the mother though... I am going to be a mother. I HATE THIS!" amusement was replaced with anger, as she sank her fist hard into the wall. She moved to suck the blood from her knuckles, then sniffed, and brought her bloodied hand to Silvanus' face. He grimaced and declined. "I'm not drinking your blood again. It felt wrong." "Oh for Sithis' sake, you little milk-drinker." she sucked it off herself, not loosing eye contact. "You're a cynic."
"Oh shut up. I'm pregnant. It's allowed." they both laughed. "Come to think of it..." she said thoughtfully, leaning against a wall, obviously playing the clown. The anger was gone as quickly as it had come. "I can get away with a lot of shit now I'm pregnant... I won't show the signs, and for the next four or so years I can screw everyone around..." she laughed darkly. Then, looking up, they both burst out laughing. For a few moments the mirth lasted, before the two walked slowly through the sanctuary, laughing with each other. Approaching the staircase, Silvanus saw the familiar form of Astrid lounging against the wall. She looked very bored, and was picking nervously at her fingernails. Silvanus cleared his throat, and she looked up, and smirked at them both. Silvanus felt the usual thrill of being near her go through him, as she came to face them both.
"Well? Did you talk to the Night Mother?" the Breton could practically feel himself getting hard at the sound of her voice. He really did prefer embracing her to embracing the Night Mother... But then, that wasn't surprising. He hoped Scarlett hadn't noticed. "Yes. She told me to see a man named Amaund Motierre in Volunruud. He has a contract for me..." she raised her eyebrows, like her daughter had, then bit her lip, thinking. After a few moments of silence, she looked back at him, a spark in her green eyes. "I've never heard of Amaund Motierre. But Volunruud... That I know. Here," she went to her desk, and pulled open a drawer. Rifling through it, she found a map, then, after pulling it out quickly, handed it to him. He took the map, and saw half a dozen large green circles on it. Taking his hand, she directed it to one of the larger circles, and pressed it down on it. She was close behind him, now, her body pressing lightly against his. Letting his eyes flicker to his left, he saw Scarlett standing, eyes averted, looking very awkward. He grinned to himself, and, making sure she was watching, turned around to kiss his lover. They kissed for a few moments, before she pulled away. "What was that for?"
"I just felt like kissing you. No reason." he looked as innocent as he could, and she raised her eyebrows at him, and let some air escape her lips. Then, rolling the map up and hitting him lightly on the head with it, she dropped it into his hands. Then, she turned to Scarlett. "Scarlett, my dear, what about you...?" Scarlett looked at Silvanus, then, shook her head. "Nah. I think the Listener would like to do his first contract on his own. I'm sure it'd make him feel..." she grimaced evilly. "Special." putting on a mocking voice, she turned to him. "Have a nice time, brother. Spill some blood." and with that, hands in pockets, she walked towards the steps and then childishly leapt down the first few, before walking down the next few.
Silvanus turned back to Astrid, confused. She chuckled, and stroked his cheek. He relished her touch, taking her hand in his own, and then taking her other. They embraced like the lovers they were. Lips next to Silvanus' ear, Astrid whispered, "It's a girl thing. You'll get used to it. Kill well and often." she bit his earlobe gently, then pushed him away. Walking away, he couldn't quite believe himself.
With Astrid, Scarlett, and even Babette he was a total softie. They walked all over him, and he knew it. And yet, with everyone else, he was still silent, brooding, evil... He hadn't changed. Finally, after years, he'd met people who were like him. And he had finally found himself equals, people who he liked, respected, trusted Silvanus hadn't even thought of his friends, even betters, as equals; they were all below him. The youth was like a king in his own right. Although he owned no land, his pride was as large as his ego.
However, although his senses were almost always extremely sharp, in his brooding state, he didn't notice a man and a boy watching him.
"Diablos, shut up!" The curly haired boy felt Vassago clap a hand over his mouth. Diablos wrestled himself free, and, breathing hard, moved away from the older man, shaking his dark hair out of his face. Irritated, he saw the sharp-faced Imperial click his tongue at him in annoyance. "Why'd you have to make so much bloody noise? And you call yourself an assassin?" "It's wrong to spy on people, Vassago. Especially when those people are your family..." "Family? Ha!" The Imperial chuckled, raising his thin eyebrows at the na ve boy standing before him, so proud, so honorable. "You've been here, what, two days, and you think these bloodthirsty assassins are family?" "I won't help you, you old bastard. I don't want to help you... I don't know what you're doing, but you'd better stop, now!" They faced each other, man and boy, both stubbornly acknowledging the other. Vassago's clear eyes looked the Nord in front of him up and down, cold, calculating. He curled his lip back, revealing sharp teeth. Diablos couldn't help thinking of an over-fed eagle, looking at the man. "You're betraying the sanctuary to someone, I know it! But who, that's what I want to know..." The slap came cold and clear across Diablos' attractive face, and the youth fell down with a muffled yell. His mouth was bleeding, and he got up furiously.
"What was that for?"
"Disobeying your elders and betters. I have complete control over you, boy..."
"Because I'm your slave!" Diablos piped up, voice full of anger. "And you had me feed these people all this shit about me being a bloody aristocrat from High Rock... You bought me as a kid from the Morrowind slave market, you pig! And you use me in all your little facades, you use me in all of your little scams... Well I've had enough. I'm telling Astrid... I'll go and tell her RIGHT NOW." "You'll do no such thing, boy. I have complete control over you. If you betray me..." Vassago's voice lowered to a menacing hiss. "If you betray me, I'll tell Astrid all about Scarlett... All about your fantasies about the child, all about the love you wish to give to her... You love her, don't you?" his voice was mocking, cruel. "You love the little girl who's only 13..."
"Almost 14."
"13, 14, 100, I don't give a shit! I'm an agent and I work for people who pay me to infiltrate things... And you help out. Got it?" there was silence for a moment... Then, slowly, Diablos nodded, face mutinous. "Good. Know your place." They stared each other down for a second: light brown on dark brown eyes. Both faces were angry, although Diablos' perhaps a little more so. Finally, the boy looked away from his master, angry. "Fine. Do what you like." "That's right, boy... What was your real name again?" Diablos groaned. Vassago loved tormenting him in this cruel, cruel way. "Daerthis, wasn't it? You know, the name you had before you were ripped away from your loving home? I have the power of life and death over you, child, and if you so much as put a toe out of place..." The Imperial drew a hand across his throat. The Nord smiled contemptuously at his master, before turning on his heel, and marching back into the sanctuary, breathing hard. He'd been kidnapped from his home in Solstheim, and sold in the Morrowind slave market when he was only six years old. He'd been sold on half a dozen times before, when he was about 10, being sold to the cruel Imperial agent, Vassago... If that was even his real name. Vassago worked for whoever could afford him, and inflitrated places that needed inflitrating... Most agents worked for some kind of military force. Not Vassago. He just sold his services to rich people who could afford him... And Diablos was part of that little scam.
He could tell Astrid. Diablos knew, if he wanted to, he could tell Astrid, and Astrid could kill Vassago. Then, he'd be free. He wasn't sure he could ever adjust to the life of an assassin, but maybe he could join the Thieves Guild up in Riften... But then he'd have to leave Scarlett. He ran his pale hands over his face, with a low sigh. In the two days he'd been at the sanctuary, he'd already fallen head over heels with the pretty Nord assassin... He'd originally had a fixation on Astrid, but the minute Scarlett had entered the door, Andromeda in tow, blood and a grin on her face... He'd known. Diablos had known that she was the girl for him. Almost fourteen, he was only fifteen, so the age gap wasn't bad... But Scarlett was, indeed, the problem.
If he told on Vassago, Vassago would tell Astrid about his fixation on her daughter... Which was probably even worse than being a slave to the bastard. He liked his new family a great deal, even Pollux, who'd been rude to him... They were the only family he'd known for a great while.
Vassago certainly wasn't family.
